GALUSHA  ANDERSON 


THE    STORY  OF  A  BORDER   CITY 
DURING    THE    CIVIL   WAR 


THE  STORY  OF  A  BORDER 

CITY  DURING  THE 

CIVIL  WAR 


BY 

GALUSHA  ANDERSON,   S.T.D.,   LL.  D. 

PROFESSOR   IN   THE    UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO 
BESIDENT  OF  ST.  LOUIS  FROM  1858  TO  1806 


With  Twelve  Portraits  and  Views 


"  On  the  perilous  edge  of  battle."  —  John  Milton. 


Boston 
Little,  Brown,  and  Company 


1908 


Copyright,  1908, 
BY  GALUSHA  ANDERSON. 


All  rights  reserved 


Published  September,  1908 


COLONIAL  PJRESS 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  U.S.A. 


To  all  those,  living  or  dead,  who  by  wisdom,  tact  and 

self-sacrifice  helped  to  keep  Missouri  in  the 

Union,  this  book  is  affectionately 

dedicated 


AN  EXPLANATION 

I  HAVE  been  frequently  urged  by  men  in  different 
parts  of  the  country  to  write  out,  and  give  to  the  public, 
the  story  of  St.  Louis  during  the  Civil  War.  Having 
had  of  late  my  time  largely  at  my  own  disposal,  I  deter 
mined  to  yield  to  these  earnest  solicitations.  But  I  have 
found  the  task  somewhat  more  difficult  than  I  antici 
pated.  While  all  that  I  saw  in  St.  Louis,  and  all  in  which 
I  participated,  came  back  to  my  mind  with  remarkable 
freshness  and  vividness,  I  have  been  compelled,  because 
of  the  lapse  of  time  since  the  war,  to  verify  my  recollec 
tions  by  wide  reading  and  painstaking  research.  I  have 
tried  to  weigh  impartially  what  has  been  said  both  by 
those  who  were  for,  and  those  who  were  against,  the 
Union. 

Upon  some  points  pertaining  to  military  operations  in 
St.  Louis  and  Missouri,  I  have  found  considerable 
conflicting  testimony.  In  such  cases  I  have  either  given 
authorities  on  both  sides,  or,  having  sifted  the  evidence 
pro  and  con,  have  presented  what  seemed  to  me  to  be, 
at  least  approximately,  the  historical  facts.  And  while 
in  some  instances  I  may  have  come  short  of  absolute 
accuracy,  in  all  my  statements  I  have  earnestly  en 
deavored  to  present  the  exact  truth. 

But  I  have  treated  of  the  movements  of  troops  and 
the  acts  of  the  general  government  only  in  so  far  as  they 
immediately  affected  the  life  and  experiences  of  those 
within  our  city.  My  sole  object  in  all  that  I  have  written 


viii  An  Explanation 

has  been  to  portray  as  clearly  and  vividly  as  I  could 
what  transpired  among  us  from  1860  to  1865;  to  note 
some  events  that  preceded  the  war  and  were  the  har 
bingers  of  it;  to  reveal  the  currents  of  thought  and 
feeling  in  St.  Louis  during  the  whole  fratricidal  struggle, 
and  especially  to  point  out  what  was  peculiar  to  us  as 
a  community  made  up  of  the  loyal  and  disloyal. 

To  my  own  mind  it  is  clear  that  our  great  Civil  War 
can  never  be  fully  understood  without  a  knowledge  of 
the  unique  experiences  of  a  border  city,  and  especially 
of  St.  Louis,  for  the  possession  of  which  both  parties 
to  our  great  national  conflict  so  earnestly  contended. 
During  the  long  and  bloody  battle  for  the  Union,  my 
home  was  there,  and  this  book  is  simply  "  an  unvar 
nished  tale  "  of  what  I  saw  and  of  work  in  which  I 
shared.  As  a  testimony  I  trust  that  it  may  be  of  some 
worth. 

And  since  I  intended  it  to  be  only  a  simple  testimony, 
it  has  not  been  written  to  make  out  a  case.  I  have  tried 
to  divest  myself  of  the  spirit  of  a  partisan,  and  to  pre 
sent  in  an  unbiased  manner  what  I  personally  observed. 
I  have  endeavored  to  write,  as  the  martyred  President 
did,  "  with  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all." 

GALUSHA  ANDERSON. 
NEWTON  CENTRE,  MASS. 
April,  1908. 

For  the  originals  of  several  of  the  illustrations  in 
this  volume  the  author  is  indebted  to  Miss  Mary 
Louise  Dalton,  the  late  Librarian  of  the  Missouri  His 
torical  Society,  whose  many  kindnesses  will  always  be 
held  in  grateful  remembrance. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  ST.  Louis 1 

II.  FOREBODINGS  OF  CONFLICT       ....  11 

III.  RUMBLINGS  OF  THE  CONFLICT  ....  32 

IV.  THE  BOOMERANG  CONVENTION          ...  40 
V.  THE  FIGHT  FOR  THE  ARSENAL          ...  63 

VI.  CAMP  JACKSON 86 

VII.  RIOT,  PANIC,   SEARCH  AND  CONFISCATION        .  106 

VIII.  THE  PULPIT  AND  THE  PRESS    ....  120 

IX.  DECISION  AND  DIVISION 146 

X.  BITTERNESS 159 

XI.  SLAVES  AND  SLAVE  -  PENS          ....  170 

XII.  PRISONS  AND  PRISONERS 188 

XIII.  LYON  IN  CONFERENCE  AND  IN  CAMPAIGN        .  198 

XIV.  FREMONT  AND  FIASCO 206 

XV.  EXTRAORDINARY  ACTS       .         .       . .         .         .  227 

XVI.  HALLECK  AND  His  MANIFESTOES     .         .         .  234 

XVII.  REFUGEES 251 

XVIII.  DIFFICULT  CURRENCY 268 

XIX.  NOT  PEACE  BUT  THE  SWORD   ....  271 

XX.  CHARCOALS  AND  CLAYBANKS    ....  276 

XXI.  HOMES  AND  HOSPITALS 288 

XXII.  THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY  SANITARY  FAIR       .  309 

XXIII.  A  DARK  PLOT  THWARTED         .         .         .         .315 

XXIV.  NEGRO  SCHOOLS 333 

XXV.  AFTER  DARKNESS  LIGHT 338 

XXVI.  RADICALS  IN  CONVENTION         ....  342 

XXVII.  THE  WIND-UP  .  360 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAOB 

A  BIRD'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  ST.  Louis  IN  1860     .       Frontispiece 

From  a  lithograph  in  the  possession  of  the  Missouri  Historical 
Society. 

THE  ARSENAL,  ST.  Louis,  IN  1866 63 

CAMP  JACKSON,  ST.  Louis 89 

From  a  photograph  in  the  possession  of  the  Missouri  Historical 
Society. 

GRATIOT    STREET   PRISON,  FORMERLY    THE   MCDOWELL 

MEDICAL  COLLEGE 188 

From  an  oil  painting,  the   property  of  the  Missouri  Historical 
Society. 

BRIGADIER  -  GENERAL  NATHANIEL  LYON         .         .         .  198 

GENERAL  FREMONT'S  HEADQUARTERS,  ST.  Louis   .         .  206 

FACSIMILE  OF  A  PASS,  ISSUED  TO  THE  AUTHOR  IN  1861  215 

THE  AUTHOR,  GALUSHA  ANDERSON,  IN  1861  .         .  218 

From  a  daguerreotype. 

HONORABLE  FRANK  P.  BLAIR,  JR 279 

From  an  oil  painting,  the  property  of  the  Missouri  Historical 
Society. 

MAJOR -GENERAL  HENRY  W.  HALLECK  .         .         .  279 

MAJOR  -  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  ROSECRANS     .         .         .  279 

MAJOR-GENERAL  JOHN  C.  FREMONT       ....  279 

MAJOR- GENERAL  JOHN  Me  A.  SCHOFIELD  279 


THE  STORY  OF  A  BORDER  CITY 
DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR 


CHAPTER   I 

ST.    LOUIS 

I  NEED  not  say  that  St.  Louis  is  built  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  Mississippi  River  about  twenty  miles  below 
the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  since  everybody  knows  that. 
But  the  present  generation  thinks  of  the  city  only  as  it 
is  to-day,  with  its  more  than  half  a  million  of  inhab 
itants,  extensive  parks,  palatial  residences,  well-con 
structed  churches,  imposing  business  blocks,  great 
railroad  bridges  spanning  the  river,  unrivalled  central 
depot  and  attractive  trolley  cars.  But  all  this  has 
flowed  from  its  wonderful  development  since  the  close 
of  the  Civil  War.  We  write  of  it  as  it  was  immediately 
before,  and  during,  that  mighty  conflict. 

In  1860  it  had  only  one  hundred  and  fifty-one  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  eighty  inhabitants,  about  one  thou 
sand  five  hundred  of  whom  were  slaves.  A  large  number 
of  enterprising  young  men  had  flocked  to  the  city  from 
every  part  of  the  United  States,  so  that  the  white  males 
of  the  city  exceeded  the  white  females  by  more  than 
ten  thousand.  Among  the  whites  there  were  many 
thousands  of  intelligent,  manly,  thrifty  Germans,  a 
fact  which  needs  to  be  borne  in  mind,  if  we  would  fully 
understand  and  duly  appreciate  the  part  which  the  city 
acted  in  the  earlier  stages  of  the  Civil  War. 


2  A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Most  of  the  city  stood  then,  as  now,  on  bluffs  or 
extended  terraces  that  rise  gradually  one  above  the 
other.  Its  situation  is  both  healthful  and  beautiful. 
But  before  the  war  its  area  was  comparatively  small. 
It  extended  along  the  river  only  six  and  a  half  miles 
and  between  three  and  four  back  from  it.  It  contained 
only  fifteen  and  a  half  square  miles.  The  ground  now 
occupied  by  the  finest  residences  was  then  rough, 
open  fields,  lying  beyond  its  western  limits.  The  city 
was  built  of  brick.  The  business  blocks,  warehouses, 
hotels,  residences,  schoolhouses,  and  churches  were  all 
of  the  same  material.  Most  of  the  sidewalks  were  also 
made  of  red  brick.  Whichever  way  you  looked  your 
eyes  rested  on  red  brick,  and  wherever  you  walked 
you  trod  on  red  brick.  I  remember  but  one  business 
block  that  had  a  stone  front,  and  that  was  marble.  The 
enterprising  citizen  who  built  it  made  quite  a  fortune 
out  of  it.  Its  very  novelty  made  it  attractive,  and  its 
rooms  were  readily  rented  to  professional  men.  The 
city  is  still  largely  built  of  brick.  The  clay  from  which 
the  brick  is  made  is  found  in  large  quantities  near  the 
city,  and  its  inhabitants  naturally  and  wisely  use  this 
excellent  building  material  that  lies  close  at  hand. 

Most  of  the  dwelling-houses  were  built  out  to  the 
street,  so  that,  with  rare  exceptions,  there  were  no  front 
yards.  On  warm  summer  evenings  the  families  living 
in  any  given  block  sat  on  the  front  stone  steps  of  their 
houses,  that  they  might  be  refreshed  by  the  cooler 
air  of  the  evening.  But  most  of  the  streets  were  mac 
adamized  with  limestone,  and  in  summer  absorbed 
during  the  day  so  much  heat,  as  they  lay  under  the 
burning  rays  of  the  sun,  that  they  continued  to  radiate 
it  long  after  the  sun  went  down.  At  such  times  a  perch 
on  the  front  stone  steps  afforded  so  little  relief  from 


St.  Louis  3 

the  heat-laden  atmosphere  that  the  half-baked  suf 
ferers  longed  for  the  arctic  regions.  A  distinguished 
man  from  the  East,  on  a  hot  night  in  September,  waking 
up  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  from  a  troubled  sleep, 
declared  that  he  found  himself,  on  account  of  the 
stifling  heat,  swelling  up  like  a  mouse  in  an  exhausted 
receiver.  But  such  days  were  exceptional  and  not 
peculiar  to  St.  Louis. 

The  larger  part  of  the  fuel  then  consumed  in  the  city 
was  soft  coal.  We  bought  it  not  by  the  ton,  but  by  the 
bushel.  In  those  days  there  were  no  smoke-consumers. 
Vast  volumes  of  smoke  poured  forth  from  the  black 
throats  of  great  chimneys  in  manufacturing  establish 
ments,  while  the  chimneys  of  every  dwelling-house,  and 
the  smoke-stack  of  every  steamer  on  the  river,  added 
their  contribution  to  render  the  atmosphere  dusky.  In 
still  days  of  the  autumn  or  winter  the  smoke  hung  like 
a  pall  over  the  city. 

But  in  spite  of  a  few  such  drawbacks  it  was  even 
then  a  very  pleasant  city.  There  were  few  who 
were  very  poor.  None  were  permitted  to  go  unclothed 
and  unfed.  Most  of  the  people  were  thrifty;  many 
of  them  were  rapidly  accumulating  wealth.  The  mar 
kets  of  the  city  were  well  supplied  with  all  the  varied 
products  of  the  fields  and  the  forests.  The  homes  of 
the  people  were  comfortable,  many  of  them  attractive. 
Their  tables  were  loaded  with  abundant  and  wholesome 
food.  The  churches  were  numerous  and  well  attended. 
The  public  schools  were  of  a  high  order.  Private  schools 
and  colleges  had  been  founded,  and  were  already  doing 
good  work. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  city  were  a  conglomerate; 
but  just  on  that  account  were  broad  and  catholic  in 
their  thinking.  Coming  from  every  section  of  the 


4  A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Republic,  by  attrition  their  provincialisms  and  preju 
dices  were  worn  away  till  they  came  to  take  compre 
hensive  and  just  views  of  the  great  questions  that  were 
at  that  time  agitating  the  nation.  Men  from  the  South 
and  North  had  learned  each  other's  excellences,  and 
with  mutual  respect  and  high  esteem  stood  shoulder 
to  shoulder  in  business,  civic  duty  and  charitable  and 
religious  service.  I  have  never  met  anywhere  men  of 
broader  gauge. 

Among  them  were  those  distinguished  as  lawyers, 
statesmen,  and  preachers.  To  name  some  to  the  neglect 
of  others  would  seem  to  be  invidious.  But  among  the 
lawyers,  Samuel  Glover  and  James  0.  Broadhead; 
among  the  preachers,  Henry  A.  Nelson,  Truman  M.  Post, 
Wm.  G.  Eliot  and  Father  Smarius;  among  the  states 
men,  Frank  P.  Blair  and  Edward  Bates,  the  latter 
afterwards  Attorney-general  in  President  Lincoln's 
Cabinet,  are  names  which  readily  occur  to  those  of  that 
generation  who  still  live. 

When,  in  the  autumn  of  1858,  I  made  St.  Louis  my 
adopted  home,  the  name  of  Thomas  H.  Benton  was  on 
all  lips.  He  had  died  in  April  of  that  year.  The  people 
of  the  city  were  justly  very  proud  of  him.  He  had 
represented  Missouri  for  thirty  years  in  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States,  and  was  unquestionably  the  most 
distinguished  man  of  the  State  and  of  the  Northwest. 
A  funeral  procession  fully  five  miles  in  length  had  fol 
lowed  his  body  to  its  burial-place  in  Belle  Fontaine 
Cemetery.  But  this  great  man,  like  many  others  who 
have  been  pre-eminent,  had  marked  peculiarities.  In 
the  Senate  he  was  called  "  The  Magisterial."  In  con 
sonance  with  that  descriptive  phrase,  when  he  ad 
dressed  crowds  at  political  meetings  in  St.  Louis,  he 
never  said,  "  Fellow  citizens,"  but  always  simply, 


St.  Louis  5 

"  Citizens."  And  the  contents  of  his  speeches  from 
the  stump  were  often  quite  as  magisterial. 

Mr.  Benton,  while  United  States  Senator,  at  times 
took  an  active  part  in  the  election  of  congressmen 
from  St.  Louis.  It  was  customary  then  for  those  op 
posed  to  each  other  to  speak  in  turn  to  the  people  from 
the  same  platform.  On  one  occasion  Mr.  Crum  was 
the  name  of  the  candidate  who,  with  Mr.  Benton,  was 
addressing  the  voters  of  the  city.  Near  the  close  of 
one  of  Mr.  Benton's  speeches,  he  said,  "  Citizens,  is 
my  opponent  a  loaf,  or  even  a  crust?  No,"  then  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  he  apparently  picked  up  and 
held  a  very  small  particle  between  his  thumb  and 
finger,  while  he  added  in  a  tone  of  great  contempt,  — 
"  No,  citizens,  he  is  nothing  but  a  tiny  Crum." 

During  another  canvass,  he  was  stoutly  opposing  Mr. 
Bogie,  who  was  a  candidate  for  Congress.  Late  one 
evening  when  about  to  close  his  speech  in  reply  to  him, 
he  said,  "  Citizens,  you  have  been  told  that  my  oppo 
nent's  name  is  Bogie.  Citizens,  it  is  a  mistake;  his 
name  is  Bogus.  But,  citizens,  notwithstanding  that, 
like  Cato  of  Rome,  I  would  now  send  my  servants 
(slaves)  to  light  him  home,  were  it  not  that  to-morrow 
you  would  be  asking,  '  Mr.  Benton,  what  sort  of  com 
pany  do  your  servants  keep?  7 

In  1856,  his  son-in-law,  John  C.  Fremont,  was  offered 
the  Republican  nomination  for  the  Presidency,  and 
asked  him  if  he  thought  it  was  best  for  him  to  accept 
it?  Benton,  believing  the  Republican  party  to  be 
sectional,  was  bitterly  opposed  to  it;  so  he  said  to 
Fremont,  "If  you  accept  the  nomination,  I'll  drop  you 
like  a  hot  potato,  sir!  like  a  hot  potato,  sir!  " 

These  incidents,  standing  alone,  would  misrepresent 
Mr.  Benton;  but  they  throw  a  side-light  on  his  char- 


6  A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

acter  and  help  us  better  to  understand  the  most  eminent 
citizen  of  St.  Louis,  a  statesman  of  large  mold  and  of 
a  well-merited  national  reputation. 

The  early  history  of  St.  Louis  is  so  full  of  interest  that 
we  cannot  refrain  from  briefly  noting  a  few  items  that 
belong  to  it.  Its  beginning  carries  us  back  to  1764. 
It  was  then  a  mere  trading-post  of  a  company  of  mer 
chants,  whose  leader  was  Pierre  Ligueste  Laclede. 
The  post  consisted  of  one  house  and  four  stores.  It 
was  named  St.  Louis  in  honor  of  the  patron  saint  of 
Louis  XV  of  France.  Though  not  possessing  the  dignity 
of  an  incorporated  town,  the  following  year  it  became 
the  capital  of  Upper  Louisiana.  Through  the  wise 
foresight  of  Jefferson,  despite  his  party  principles, 
the  vast  and  vaguely  defined  territory  of  Louisiana 
was  purchased  from  France  at  a  time  when  Napoleon 
sorely  needed  money.  In  transferring  this  immense 
region  there  were  two  formal  ceremonies,  one  at  New 
Orleans,  Dec.  20th,  1803;  the  other  at  St.  Louis,  on 
March  10th,  1804.  On  the  latter  day  Major  Stoddard, 
who  was  the  agent  of  the  French  Government  to  receive 
Upper  Louisiana  from  Spain,  for  France,  was  also  the 
accredited  agent  of  our  government  to  take  over  the 
same  territory  for  the  United  States.  That  one  man 
should  represent  both  nations  in  affairs  of  such  tre 
mendous  importance  was,  to  say  the  least,  unique.1 
This  ceremony  of  transfer  took  place  at  the  northeast 
corner  of  First,  or  Main,  and  Walnut  Streets.  The  event 
should  be  commemorated  by  some  suitable  tablet  or 
monument  erected  on  the  spot  of  transfer.  We  trust 
that  the  Missouri  Historical  Society  will  have  the  honor 

1  The  originals  of  both  these  commissions  are  in  the  archives  of 
the  Missouri  Historical  Society.  See  also  Scharf's  History  of  St. 
Louis,  and  Billon's  Annals  of  St.  Louis. 


St.  Louis  7 

of  doing  this  work  so  consonant  with  its  aims  and 
character. 

The  town  of  St.  Louis  was  laid  out  between  the  river 
and  the  first  range  of  bluffs  on  the  west,  and  a  series  of 
circular  towers  was  erected  around  it  for  defence.  The 
houses  were  mainly  built  of  rough  stone  and  white 
washed,  and  each  house  had  a  separate  lot  for  fruit 
and  flowers.  These  houses  were  without  cellars.  The 
first  house  provided  with  such  a  convenience  was  built 
by  Laclede  on  what  is  now  called  Main  Street,  between 
Market  and  Walnut.  Indian  women  and  children 
helped  dig  it,  carrying  out  the  dirt  on  their  heads,  in 
wooden  platters  and  baskets.  In  this  house  civil  govern 
ment  was  inaugurated  in  1765  by  Captain  Louis  Saint 
Ange,  Acting  French  Governor  of  Upper  Louisiana;  in  it, 
also,  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette  was  entertained  in  1825. 

The  streets  of  the  old  town  were  all  quite  narrow; 
it  was  thought  that  such  streets  could  be  more  easily 
defended.  And  there  they  are,  cramped  and  narrow 
to  this  day.  But  in  time  the  land  above  and 
west  of  the  village  was  laid  out  in  town  lots,  and  the 
chief  promoters  of  this  enterprise,  Judge  Lucas  and 
Colonel  Chouteau,  built  their  dwelling-houses  far  back 
from  the  river  and  the  old  town,  the  former  at  the 
corner  of  Seventh  and  Chestnut  Streets,  the  latter  at 
the  corner  of  Sixth  and  Olive  Streets.  In  1809,  the 
year  in  which  St.  Louis  was  incorporated  as  a  town, 
Fort  Belle  Fontaine  became  the  headquarters  of  the 
Department  of  Upper  Louisiana.  It  was  several  miles 
north  of  the  village,  on  a  high  bluff,  overlooking  the 
Mississippi.  The  land  for  this  fort  was  secured  by  treaty 
from  the  Sac  and  Fox  Indians.  On  it  was  a  great 
spring  of  pure  water  capable  of  supplying  a  thousand 
men;  hence  the  name  of  the  fort,  Belle  Fontaine. 


8  A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

St.  Louis  was  early  called  the  Gateway  of  the  West. 
In  1817  the  first  steamboat  tied  up  to  her  levee.1  This 
was  the  beginning  of  an  imperial  trade.  Streams  of 
commerce  now  began  to  flow  into  her  markets  from  the 
great  continental  rivers,  from  the  upper  Mississippi, 
the  Illinois,  the  Missouri,  the  Ohio,  the  lower  Mississippi 
with  its  far-reaching  affluents;  and,  through  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  even  from  the  cities  of  the  Atlantic  sea 
board.  For  many  years  her  chief  trade  had  been  in 
the  pelts  and  furs  of  wild  animals;  but  now  this  lucra 
tive  traffic  was  greatly  augmented.  For  forty  years 
the  annual  value  of  it  alone  was  between  two  and  three 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  while  commerce  in  all  agri 
cultural  products  and  in  manufactured  goods  was 
constantly  swelling  in  volume.  Still  it  is  worthy  of 
note  that  deerskins  were  an  article  of  barter,  and  furs 
were  currency  in  St.  Louis,  from  the  days  of  Laclede 
until  Missouri  became  a  State  in  1821 ;  and  a  year  later, 
even  before  St.  Louis  had  five  thousand  inhabitants, 
it  was  chartered  as  a  city. 

When  under  Spanish  control,  it  was  strictly  Roman 
Catholic.  In  1862 1  met  at  a  wedding  in  St.  Louis  a  lady 
almost  a  hundred  years  old.  She  was  still  in  excellent 
health.  Her  intellect  was  clear  and  vigorous.  As 
she  took  my  arm  to  go  to  the  wedding  supper,  she  archly 
remarked,  "  Your  wife  will  not  be  jealous  when  she 
learns  how  old  I  am."  Yet,  when  we  were  seated  at 
the  table,  after  some  moments  of  absolute  silence  on 
her  part,  into  which  I  did  not  venture  to  intrude,  she 
said, "  I  do  believe  that  God  has  forgotten  me."  I  looked 
at  her  with  mingled  astonishment  and  curiosity  and 
said,  "  Why  so?  "  She  replied,  "  All  the  friends  of  my 
early  life  are  gone  and  I  am  left  alone."  She  now 

'The  Louisiana  Purchase  ;   Hitchcock,  p.  243. 


St.  Louis  9 

became  reminiscent  and  added, "  I  lived  here  when  St. 
Louis  belonged  to  Spain.  And  just  as  for  many  years 
no  free  negro  has  been  permitted  to  enter  this  city 
without  a  pass,  so  for  years,  in  my  early  life,  no  Protes 
tant  could  enter  it  without  a  written  permit  from  the 
Spanish  authorities." 

But,  while  under  the  rule  of  the  United  States  all 
religious  intolerance  disappeared,  African  slavery 
flourished,  established  and  protected  by  law.  And 
although  in  1860  St.  Louis  had  but  few  slaves,  never 
theless  pro-slavery  sentiment  largely  prevailed.  Those 
who  cherished  it  were  often  intense  and  bitter,  and  at 
that  time  socially  controlled  the  entire  city.  But  on 
the  other  hand  the  leading  business  men  of  the  city 
were  quietly,  conservatively,  yet  positively,  opposed 
to  slavery.  Many  of  them  had  come  from  New  England 
and  the  Middle  States  and  believed  slavery  to  be  a 
great  moral  wrong;  but  those  from  the  North  and 
South  alike  saw  that  slavery  was  a  drag  upon  the 
commercial  interests  of  the  city  and  all  were  hoping 
that  in  some  way  the  incubus  might  be  lifted  off  from 
it.  For  St.  Louis,  the  commercial  capital  of  Missouri, 
already  had  many  great  merchants  and  enterprising 
manufacturers,  who  were  not  only  throwing  out  their 
lines  of  trade  into  every  part  of  the  State,  but  also  into 
all  the  surrounding  States  and  territories.  It  was  linked 
by  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri,  fed  by  numerous  and 
important  affluents,  with  a  vast  territory  which  was 
probably  the  richest  on  the  earth's  surface.  And  very 
much  of  its  trade  was  with  southern  cities.  In  1860, 
more  than  four  thousand  steamers,  with  a  capacity 
of  one  million  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  and 
thirty-nine  tons,  loaded  arid  unloaded  at  its  wharves.  To 
obstruct  the  Father  of  Waters  at  the  mouth  of  the 


10          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Ohio,  or  to  divide  it  by  secession,  was  a  matter  of  life 
and  death  to  all  the  business  interests  of  St.  Louis. 
And  no  one  without  this  conception  clearly  in  mind 
can  adequately  understand  what  took  place  there  in 
those  days  of  awful  storm  and  stress  between  1860  and 
1865. 


CHAPTER   II 

FOREBODINGS   OF   CONFLICT 

FOR  many  years  the  subject  of  slavery,  in  its  varied 
aspects,  had  been  constantly  and  hotly  discussed  in 
all  political  and  religious  journals,  on  the  stump,  in  the 
pulpit,  and  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States.  The 
higher  law  doctrine,  propounded  by  William  H.  Seward, 
the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise  in  1854,  the 
Kansas  war,  Lincoln's  celebrated  debate  with  Douglas, 
and  his  pregnant  declaration  in  1858,  that  the  nation 
could  not  continue  to  exist  half  slave  and  half  free, 
that  "  a  house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand," 
had  greatly  agitated  the  whole  nation.  In  the  hearts 
of  pro-slavery  men,  vengeful  fire  was  smouldering; 
it  needed  only  an  added  breath  to  make  it  shoot  up  into 
a  devouring  flame.  The  apprehensiveness  and  extreme 
sensitiveness  of  pro-slavery  Missouri  manifested  itself 
in  the  winter  of  1859-60,  through  its  legislature.  That 
body  of  law-makers  passed  a  bill  by  an  overwhelming 
majority,  expelling  from  the  State  all  free  negroes. 
There  were  more  than  a  thousand  of  that  class  in  St. 
Louis,  and  a  large  majority  of  these  were  females,  doing 
domestic  service  in  the  best  families  of  the  city.  The 
excitement  caused  by  this  short-sighted  action  of  the 
legislature  was  intense.  The  bill  enacted  was  a  declara 
tion  in  the  form  of  law,  that  the  presence  of  free  negroes 
was  a  menace  to  slavery.  Many  men  in  St.  Louis  were 


12          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

asking  with  flushed  faces, "  What  shall  be  done  to  meet 
this  emergency,  to  avert  this  calamity?  " 

I  met  on  the  street  one  of  the  coolest  men  that  it  has 
been  my  lot  to  know  during  a  long  life,  and  even  he, 
whose  spirit  never  seemed  to  be  ruffled  by  any  exasper 
ating  event,  was  hot  with  indignation.  With  great 
vehemence  he  denounced  the  barbarous  legislation, 
and  said  that  something  must  be  done  to  thwart  its 
purpose.  But  on  inquiry  I  found  that  he  was  unable 
to  suggest  any  line  of  action  by  which  this  vicious 
legislation  could  be  neutralized. 

Now  let  us  note  in  contrast  another  man.  There  was 
a  negro  pastor  in  the  city  by  the  name  of  Richard 
Anderson.  When  a  boy  he  was  a  slave,  and  had  been 
brought  from  Virginia  to  Missouri.  When  he  was  twelve 
years  old  his  master,  Mr.  Bates,  had  given  him  his 
freedom.  He  now  began  to  do  odd  jobs  about  the  city. 
He  became  a  newspaper  carrier,  and  thus  aided  in  dis 
tributing  among  its  subscribers  The  Missouri  Republi 
can.  While  doing  his  work  he  learned  to  read;  the 
newspaper  that  he  carried  from  door  to  door  was  his 
spelling-book  and  school  reader.  With  his  ability  to 
read  came  broader  intelligence.  He  industriously 
thumbed  and  mastered  good  books.  The  Bible  was 
constantly  read  by  him.  He  became  a  Christian. 
He  was  called  to  be  a  preacher  and  pastor.  He  was  a 
large  man  of  commanding  presence,  a  descendant  of 
an  African  chief.  He  was  very  black.  Wliile  his  nose 
was  somewhat  flattened,  it  was  straight  and  sharply 
cut;  his  thick  lips  were  firmly  set.  His  eyes  were 
large  and  lustrous,  his  forehead  was  high  and  broad. 
He  preached  well.  His  manner  was  quiet,  suggesting 
reserved  power;  his  thought  was  orderly  and  clear. 
He  had  great  power  over  an  audience,  If  his  black 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  13 

hearers  became  noisy  with  their  shouting  of  "  amen  " 
and  "  hallelujah,"  by  a  gentle  wave  of  the  hand  he 
reduced  them  to  silence.  He  was  a  born  leader,  but  he 
led  by  the  inherent  force  of  his  character.  One  of  his 
deacons  said,  "He  led  us  all  by  a  spider's  web."  He 
was  universally  respected,  and  was  welcome  to  all 
houses  where  the  members  of  his  church  were  employed. 
He  never  betrayed  any  confidence  reposed  in  him. 
Like  his  Master  "he  went  about  doing  good."  Nothing 
diverted  him  from  his  purpose.  Nothing  seemed  to 
disturb  his  equanimity.  While  he  sometimes  burned 
with  indignation,  he  never  lost  control  of  himself. 
He  was  a  man  of  rare  balance  of  mind. 

He  presided  over  a  church  of  a  thousand  members. 
Fully  half  of  them  were  free.  The  bill  for  the  expulsion 
of  free  negroes  from  the  State  fell  with  greater  severity 
upon  him  than  upon  any  other  man  in  St.  Louis.  I 
met  him  expecting  that  he  would  be  greatly  agitated 
and  cast  down;  but  was  surprised  to  find  him  abso 
lutely  unruffled.  I  ventured  to  ask  him  if  he  had  heard 
of  the  recent  legislation  pertaining  to  free  negroes. 
He  quietly  replied  that  he  had,  and  then  added  with 
emphasis,  "That  bill  will  never  become  a  law."  With 
mingled  curiosity  and  surprise  I  asked,  "  How  do  you 
know  that?  "  Lifting  his  hand  and  pointing  upward 
toward  heaven,  and  turning  his  eyes  thitherward  he 
replied,  "  I  know  because  I  have  asked  up  there." 
Calm  and  assured  as  he  was,  I  feared  that  he  was  the 
victim  of  a  fatal  illusion  from  which  he  might  be  soon 
rudely  awakened.  But  nothing  that  I  said  in  oppo 
sition  to  his  conclusion  moved  him  in  the  slightest 
degree  from  his  conviction. 

Time  soon  showed  that  this  black  man  with  his  great, 
calm  soul,  and  unswerving  faith  was  right.  Hon. 


14         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

R.  M.  Stewart  was  then  governor  of  the  state.  He  was 
a  staunch  Bourbon  Democrat.  He  believed  slavery 
to  be  right.  He  drank  whiskey  freely  and  said :  "  Cotton 
is  not  king,  but  corn  and  corn- whiskey  are  king/'  He 
knew  that.  He  spoke  from  abundant  and  sad  experi 
ence. 

But  he  had  been  brought  up  in  eastern  New  York. 
The  doctrine  that  all  men,  irrespective  of  color,  have 
an  inalienable  right  to  liberty  had  been  breathed  in 
with  the  air  of  his  native  hills,  and  had  become  part 
and  parcel  of  his  life-blood.  As  he  looked  at  that 
infamous  bill,  passed  almost  unanimously,  the  teaching 
received  in  boyhood  asserted  itself.  It  was  stronger 
than  his  pro-slavery  Bourbonism,  stronger  than  party 
ties;  his  soul  was  in  revolt  against  this  shameless 
iniquity.  If,  however,  he  should  veto  the  bill,  these 
legislators  would  quickly  pass  it  over  his  head.  So  he 
took  the  only  course  by  which  it  could  be  effectually 
defeated.  The  legislature  was  about  to  adjourn.  It 
was  his  constitutional  privilege  to  retain  the  bill  instead 
of  returning  it  with  his  signature  or  his  veto.  If  he  did 
not  return  it  within  twenty  days,  it  failed  to  become 
a  law.  He  pocketed  it,  and  the  free  negroes  were  left 
in  peace.  And  who  can  say  that  the  praying,  believing, 
black  pastor  did  not  know? 

But  although  this  execrable  legislation  failed,  it 
left  its  indelible  mark  on  the  public  mind.  Men  were 
made  by  it  sensitive  and  suspicious.  They  doubted, 
as  never  before,  the  possibility  of  maintaining  a  govern 
ment  which  extended  its  aegis  over  forces  so  utterly 
antagonistic  as  freedom  and  slavery.  In  this  portentous 
state  of  the  public  mind  the  presidential  campaign  of 
1860  began.  Throughout  the  Union  the  political 
conflict  was  fierce,  but  in  Missouri,  and  in  its  great  com- 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  15 

mercial  city,  St.  Louis,  it  was  unusually  hot  and  acri 
monious.  African  slavery  was  the  distracting  problem. 
None  attempted  to  disguise  it.  Men  on  every  hand 
spoke  plainly  and  boldly.  Most  of  the  people  of  the 
slave  states,  and  the  citizens  of  Missouri  among  the  rest, 
believed  with  all  their  hearts  that  if  the  Republican 
party  should  be  successful  at  the  polls,  henceforth 
slavery  would  probably  be  excluded  from  the  territories, 
and,  at  no  distant  day,  would  become  extinct  even  in 
the  states.  They  seemed  to  see  on  the  wall  the  hand 
writing  that  foretold  its  doom.  Their  more  fiery  orators 
declared  that  if  slavery  were  hemmed  into  the  states, 
"  like  a  scorpion  girt  by  fire,  it  would  sting  itself  to 
death."  This  was  a  most  unfortunate  simile  with 
which  to  characterize  an  institution  that  they  stoutly 
contended  was  not  only  beneficent,  but  also  divine. 

They  regarded  the  Republican  candidate  for  the 
Presidency  as  the  embodiment  of  all  their  apprehended 
woes,  and  so  they  poured  out  upon  him  without  stint 
their  bitterest  execrations.  In  this  they  were  encour 
aged  by  the  outrageous  cartoons  of  Harper's  Weekly. 
In  one  of  its  issues  he  was  depicted  in  ludicrous,  not  to 
say  horrible,  uncouthness  of  figure,  as  drunk  in  a  bar 
room.  The  moral  turpitude  of  such  a  representation 
was  simply  unspeakable  when  we  remember  that  Mr. 
Lincoln  in  his  boyhood  promised  his  mother  that  he 
would  never  drink  intoxicating  liquor  and  had  sacredly 
kept  his  word.  In  another  issue  of  the  Weekly  he  was 
portrayed  as  frightened  by  ghosts,  his  shocky  hair 
standing  on  end.  So,  sustained  by  a  widely  read 
Northern  journal  in  their  grotesque  and  monstrous 
representations  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  many  of  them,  not 
all,  emptied  upon  him  a  flood  of  billingsgate.  Some  in 
common  conversation,  others  in  their  political  harangues 


16          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

on  the  stump,  called  him  an  idiot,  a  buffoon,  a  baboon, 
the  Illinois  ape,  a  gorilla. 

But  in  St.  Louis  there  were  from  fifty  to  sixty 
thousand  Germans,  and  they  were  almost  solidly 
Republican.  During  this  vituperative  presidential 
canvass  they  invited  Carl  Schurz  to  address  them  and 
their  fellow  citizens,  on  the  burning  question  of  the 
hour.  He  was  not  as  widely  known  then  as  he  after 
wards  became;  still  he  had  already  acquired  consider 
able  reputation  as  a  political  speaker.  Moreover,  he 
came  to  us  from  a  free  state,  and  a  host  of  men  in  the 
city  were  anxious  to  hear  what  this  German  from 
Wisconsin  had  to  say  to  them  concerning  our  great 
national  problem.  In  the  evening  of  the  first  of  August, 
1860,  he  appeared  in  Verandah  Hall.  Fully  three  thou 
sand  enthusiastic  souls  were  there  to  greet  him  and 
hear  him.  He  spoke,  as  was  his  custom,  from  manu 
script.  His  subject  was,  "  The  Doom  of  Slavery." 
With  rare  lucidity  and  forcefulness  he  justly  stated 
the  position  of  slavery  and  showed  that,  from  its  very 
nature,  it  could  not  permit  men  on  its  own  soil  freely 
to  discuss  it ;  nor  could  it  safely  permit  the  slaves  to  be 
educated  except  for  servants,  lest  thereby  there  might  be 
engendered  within  them  aspirations  for  freedom  incom 
patible  with  involuntary  servitude;  nor  could  slavery 
favor  the  development  of  domestic  industries,  since 
that  would  build  up  the  free  states  more  rapidly  than 
their  own,  and  so  disturb  the  political  equilibrium  of 
the  Republic;  and  for  the  same  reason  slavery  could 
not  consent  to  be  kept  out  of  the  territories  of  the 
Northwest. 

In  contrast  with  this,  he  stated  with  equal  clearness 
and  cogency  the  position  of  free  labor.  It  requires 
the  highest  advantages,  educational  and  industrial, 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  17 

for  all ;  instead  of  class  privileges  it  demands  privileges 
that  are  universal.  He  showed  the  utter  incompati 
bility  of  slavery  and  free  labor. 

With  unusual  incisiveness  he  now  analyzed  the  plat 
forms  of  the  parties  that  were  then  appealing  to  the 
people  for  their  suffrages,  pouring  out  his  racy  satire 
especially  on  squatter  sovereignty  or  non-intervention, 
of  which  Senator  Douglas  of  Illinois  was  the  champion. 

In  the  latter  part  of  his  masterful  speech,  by  the 
clearest  and  most  trenchant  argument,  he  revealed  the 
egregious  folly  of  attempting  to  dissolve  the  Union,  and 
then  powerfully  appealed  to  the  reason  and  good  sense 
of  the  slaveholders,  some  of  whom  sat  before  him, 
and  urged  them  to  abandon  their  position. 

Two  short  paragraphs  will  reveal  in  some  measure 
the  spirit  with  which  the  orator  spoke.  He  said:  "I 
hear  the  silly  objection  that  your  sense  of  honor  forbids 
you  to  desert  your  cause.  Sense  of  honor!  Imagine  a 
future  generation  standing  around  the  tombstone  of 
the  bravest  of  you,  and  reading  the  inscription,  'Here 
lies  a  gallant  man,  who  fought  and  died  for  the  cause 
—  of  human  slavery.'  What  will  the  verdict  be?  His 
very  progeny  will  disown  him,  and  exclaim,  '  He  must 
have  been  either  a  knave  or  a  fool/  There  is  not  one 
of  you  who,  if  he  could  rise  from  the  dead  a  century 
hence,  would  not  gladly  exchange  his  epitaph  for  that 
of  the  meanest  of  those  who  were  hung  at  Charlestown." 

"  I  turn  to  you,  Republicans  of  Missouri.  Your 
countrymen  owe  you  a  debt  of  admiration  and  gratitude 
to  which  my  poor  voice  can  give  but  a  feeble  expression. 
You  have  undertaken  the  noble  task  of  showing  the 
people  of  the  North  that  the  slaveholding  States  them 
selves  contain  the  elements  of  regeneration,  and  of 
demonstrating  to  the  South  how  that  regeneration  can 


18         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

be  effected.  You  have  inspired  the  wavering  masses 
with  confidence  in  the  practicability  of  our  ideas. 
To  the  North  you  have  given  encouragement;  to  the 
South  you  have  set  an  example.  Let  me  entreat  you 
not  to  underrate  your  noble  vocation.  Struggle  on, 
brave  men !  The  anxious  wishes  of  millions  are  hovering 
around  you.  Struggle  on  until  the  banner  of  emancipa 
tion  is  planted  upon  the  Capitol  of  your  State,  and  one 
of  the  proudest  chapters  of  our  history  will  read:  Mis 
souri  led  the  van,  and  the  nation  followed."  (Immense 
and  long-continued  cheering.) 

It  was  a  great  speech,  profoundly  philosophical, 
keen  in  analysis,  virile  in  argument,  brilliant  in  style, 
and  absolutely  and  refreshingly  fearless.  It  strengthened 
feeble  knees,  stiffened  gelatinous  backbones,  and  gave 
courage  to  the  faint-hearted.  Again  and  again  the 
great  throng  that  listened  broke  out  into  rapturous 
applause.  Thinking  men  were  profoundly  stirred. 
The  free-soilers  who  for  many  months  had  been  battling 
against  fearful  odds  for  the  freedom  of  all,  from  that 
hour  walked  with  firmer  tread.  One  could  feel  in  it 
all  the  first  breath  of  the  coming  battle  between  free 
dom  and  slavery. 

At  last  the  canvass  was  over;  November  came;  the 
ballots  were  cast  and  counted,  and,  in  spite  of  all  the 
abuse  heaped  upon  him,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  triumphantly 
elected.  In  the  slave  State  of  Missouri,  he  received 
more  than  seventeen  thousand  votes,  almost  wholly 
in  St.  Louis,  Gasconade  and  Cole  counties.1  To  me  it 
has  always  been  a  genuine  joy  that  it  fell  to  my  lot  to 
cast  one  of  those  ballots.  They  were  ballots  of  freedom 
and  progress. 

After  the  election,  all  those  in  St.  Louis,  who  had  hoped 

1W.  R.S.2  Vol.  I,p.  244. 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  19 

against  hope  that  the  Republican  party  might  be  de 
feated,  seemed  to  settle  down  into  sullen,  silent,  blank 
despair.  Under  the  circumstances  no  one  cared  to 
talk  openly.  Those  whose  hearts  were  full  of  joy  over 
the  outcome  of  the  battle  of  ballots  gave  little  or  no 
public  expression  of  their  gladness,  lest  they  might 
unduly  vex  their  disappointed  and  downhearted  neigh 
bors;  while  most  of  the  latter  rigidly  refrained  from 
openly  proclaiming  their  bitter  chagrin  over  their  defeat, 
lest  they  might  augment  the  elation  of  the  victors.  More 
over,  most  of  those  in  St.  Louis,  irrespective  of  their 
party  affiliations,  felt  the  supreme  importance  of  keep 
ing  the  peace  of  the  city  unbroken.  A  large  minority, 
however,  were  too  proud  to  give  expression  to  their 
despair,  but  thought  in  silence,  and,  as  subsequent 
events  proved,  much  of  their  thinking  was  desperate. 
From  one  cause  or  another  all,  so  far  as  public  utterance 
was  concerned,  held  their  peace,  but  it  was  that  omi 
nous  stillness  that  precedes  the  bursting  of  the  storm. 
But  underneath  this  surface-calm  there  were  clandes 
tine,  but  energetic,  movements  that  portended  armed 
conflict.  There  were  two  formidable  political  clubs  in 
the  city.  The  one  was  the  Wide-Awakes.  This  was 
Republican  in  politics.  It  was  made  up  of  the  most 
progressive  young  men  of  St.  Louis.  Many  of  them 
had  just  come  into  the  Republican  ranks;  their  political 
faith  was  new;  they  had  the  zeal  and  enthusiasm  of 
recent  converts.  They  were  also  stimulated  by  the 
fact  that  they  were  called  upon  to  maintain  their 
political  doctrine  in  the  face  of  the  stoutest  opposition. 
With  their  torchlights  they  had  just  been  marching 
and  hurrahing  for  Lincoln.  They  had  cheered  the 
vigorous  speeches  of  their  brilliant  orators.  Their 
candidate,  though  defeated  in  their  city  and  State, 


20         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

had  been  triumphantly  elected  to  the  Presidency. 
Such  a  body  of  men,  flushed  with  victory,  was  a  political 
force  which  every  thoughtful  man  saw  must  be  reckoned 
with. 

The  other  political  club  was  the  Minute  Men.  They 
were  mostly  young,  but  conservative,  Democrats. 
They  had  supported  Douglas  for  the  Presidency.  They 
too  had  had  their  torchlight  processions.  They  had 
listened  to  impassioned  harangues  from  the  stump 
and  loudly  cheered  them.  Even  their  distinguished 
political  leader  came  during  the  canvass  and  spoke  to 
them  with  rare  persuasiveness  in  defence  of  squatter 
sovereignty,  and  they  were  proud  of  "  The  Little 
Giant,"  as  Senator  Douglas  was  popularly  called. 
Then,  in  their  city  and  State  they  had  been  victorious 
at  the  polls.  While  defeated  in  the  nation  at  large, 
they  felt  strong,  braced,  as  they  believed  themselves 
to  be,  by  the  old  and  oft-tested  doctrines  of  Democracy. 
Here  was  another  mighty  political  force.  If  armed 
conflict  were  to  come,  on  which  side  would  it  array  itself? 
While  Mr.  Douglas,  their  admired  leader,  was  a  staunch 
Union  man,  most  of  these  Minute  Men,  who  had  so 
strenuously  striven  to  elect  him  to  the  Presidency, 
after  they  learned  the  verdict  at  the  polls,  began  to 
drift  into  the  ranks  of  the  secessionists.  Nor  did  they 
disband;  but  they  began  to  organize  for  hostilities. 
When  this  was  observed,  influential  Republicans  ad 
vised  the  Wide-Awakes  not  to  break  up  their  organiza 
tions,  but  to  continue  to  meet  statedly,  just  as  they 
had  during  the  presidential  campaign,  to  procure 
arms  so  far  as  they  were  able,  and  to  subject  themselves 
to  military  drill.  And  during  the  winter  of  1860-61 
these  antagonistic  political  organizations,  the  Minute 
Men  and  the  Wide-Awakes,  now  to  all  intents  and 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  21 

purposes  transformed  into  military  bodies,  met  regu 
larly  at  their  various  rendezvous  and  went  through 
the  manual  of  arms.  Late  in  the  evening,  I  often  passed 
a  hall  occupied  by  a  company  of  Minute  Men,  or  seces 
sionists,  where  I  heard  them  march,  countermarch  and 
ground  arms.  Things  like  this  were  unmistakable 
premonitions  of  bloody  battle.  Some  of  our  immediate 
neighbors  and  friends  evidently  already  contemplated 
appealing  "  from  ballots  to  bullets,"  and  a  shiver  of 
apprehension  ran  down  our  spines. 

But  a  serious  problem  now  presented  itself  for  solution. 
How  could  arms  be  obtained  for  the  Wide-Awakes  or 
Union  men?  In  some  mysterious  way  the  Minute  Men 
or  secessionists  had  been  at  least  partially  armed. 
We  could  only  guess  what  was  the  source  of  their  supply. 
But  where  could  the  Wide-Awakes  secure  guns?  There 
were  arms  in  abundance  at  the  Arsenal  in  the  southern 
part  of  the  city,  but  they  belonged  to  the  United  States ; 
and  as  there  were  as  yet  no  open  hostilities,  private 
military  organizations  could  not  lawfully  be  furnished 
with  them.  Notwithstanding  this,  we  did  not  propose, 
if  the  hour  of  need  should  strike,  to  be  found  napping. 
So  after  due  deliberation  it  was  announced  that,  in  a 
certain  hall,  there  would  be  an  art  exhibition,  which 
would  continue  for  three  weeks  or  more.  To  the  general 
public  it  seemed  to  be  an  unpropitious  time  for  such  a 
venture,  but  as  it  had  no  warlike  look  it  aroused  no 
suspicion,  and  was  generously  patronized  by  those 
of  all  shades  of  political  opinion.  The  exhibition  in 
its  display  of  statuary  and  painting  was  not  only  credit 
able  but  attractive.  It  was  also  a  financial  success; 
but  outside  the  few  determined  Union  men  who  made 
up  the  inner  circle,  the  secret  reason  of  that  burning 
zeal  for  cultivating  the  artistic  tastes  of  the  city  was 


22          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

quite  unknown.  Considerable  material  for  the  exhibition 
was  sent  to  us  from  the  East;  among  other  things 
was  a  plentiful  supply  of  plaster  casts  from  New  York. 
These  were  packed  in  large  boxes;  but  some  patriots 
of  Gotham,  who  sent  them,  knew  our  secret  and  our 
necessities,  and  also  forwarded  to  us  boxes  of  muskets 
labeled  as  plaster  casts,  with  plain  directions  to  handle 
the  fragile  contents  with  care.  Those  who  arranged 
the  material  of  the  art  exhibit,  unable,  on  account 
of  the  rush  of  work,  to  unpack  these  boxes  in  the  day 
time,  were  compelled  to  leave  them  till  midnight 
before  they  were  cared  for.  Then,  unopened,  they  were 
carted  to  the  places  where  patriotic  Wide-A wakes  were 
gathered.  Shining  muskets  never  gave  more  joy  than 
these  imparted  to  the  Union  men  of  St.  Louis.  And 
during  that  anxious,  dismal  winter,  they  often  met  in 
their  secret  places,  and  while  hoping  that  all  threatened 
disaster  might  be  averted,  statedly  went  through  the 
manual  of  arms.  Hoping  for  the  best,  they  determined 
to  be  ready  for  the  worst. 

So  the  city  had  a  number  of  hostile  camps,  which  had 
been  so  secretly  formed  and  maintained  that  many 
did  not  even  know  of  their  existence.  These  hostile 
bodies  had  been  armed;  but  no  one  yet  knew  where 
the  Minute  Men,  or  secessionists,  obtained  their  arms; 
and  the  secessionists  did  not  even  know  that  the  Wide 
awakes,  the  Union  men,  were  armed  at  all.  Yet  there 
these  opposing  bands  of  men  were,  cherishing  diametric 
ally  opposite  purposes.  Some  of  them  had  deter 
mined  if  possible  to  disrupt  the  Republic;  some 
of  them  had  determined  to  do  all  in  their  power 
to  prevent  such  a  catastrophe.  To  make  good 
their  respective  purposes,  they  were  secretly  drilling, 
while  the  whole  city  was  full  of  apprehension,  often 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  23 

greatly  depressed  in  spirit  and  sometimes  wrapped 
in  gloom. 

While  these  things  were  being  done  under  cover, 
the  people  of  the  city  carefully  abstained  from  all 
outward  manifestations  of  their  patriotism.  The  fire 
burned  in  the  bones  of  Union  men,  but  for  pru 
dential  reasons  they  did  not  permit  it  to  flame 
forth.  They  determined  if  possible  to  avoid  con 
flict  and  bloodshed  within  our  gates.  No  preacher 
spoke  for  the  Republic.  No  congregation  sang,  "  My 
country,  'tis  of  thee."  No  band  played  "  The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner."  Outside  of  the  Arsenal  there  was 
but  one  United  States  flag  hung  out  in  all  the  city,  and 
that  floated  over  the  main  entrance  of  a  dry-goods 
store;  partly,  as  we  thought,  from  patriotic,  and  partly 
from  mercenary,  motives;  but  to  all  lovers  of  the 
Union,  it  was  a  cheering  sight.  And  this  flagless  con 
dition  of  the  city  continued  till  May  of  1861,  when 
gradually  the  houses,  places  of  business,  and  in  some 
instances  even  the  churches  of  the  loyal,  began  to 
blossom  with  national  banners. 

Events  outside  of  the  city  greatly  agitated  us.  In 
December  of  1860,  the  Governor  of  Alabama  sent 
commissioners  to  all  the  slaveholding  States,  inviting 
and  urging  them  to  secede  from  the  Union.  He  wished 
these  States  to  act  as  a  unit,  to  go  out  of  the  Union  to 
gether,  in  order  that  the  resulting  Confederacy  might 
from  the  start  be  as  formidable  as  possible.  One  of 
these  commissioners,  Mr.  William  Cooper,  presented 
this  appeal  from  Alabama  to  Governor  Stewart  at  our 
State  capital,  who  received  him  with  frigid  courtesy  and 
listened  unsympathetically  to  his  message.  He  then 
called  on  the  Governor-elect,  Claiborn  F.  Jackson,  who 
unhesitatingly  expressed  his  sympathy  with  the  pro- 


24          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

posed  secession  movement.1  This  of  course  aroused 
our  indignation,  but  it  was  what  we  should  have  expected 
of  one  who  had  been  prominent  among  armed  Mis- 
sourians,  that,  at  an  earlier  day,  invaded  Kansas,  and 
by  force  deposited  their  votes  in  order  to  make  it  a  slave 
State. 

Then  on  the  heel  of  this  came  the  secession  of 
South  Carolina  on  the  twentieth  of  December.  To 
be  sure,  the  excitement  caused  among  us  by  these  omi 
nous  political  measures  was  shared  by  the  whole  nation. 
But  as  the  situation  of  a  border  city  was  peculiar,  the 
agitation  that  we  felt  was  unique.  Unionism  and  seces- 
sionism  in  our  streets,  homes,  places  of  business,  and 
social  gatherings  met  face  to  face.  An  awful  uncer 
tainty  pervaded  all  minds.  Our  political  destiny 
trembled  in  the  balance.  Which  way  the  scale  would 
turn  no  one  knew.  Moreover,  the  same  events  awakened 
in  the  city  opposite  and  antagonistic  emotions.  When 
one  party  was  filled  with  apprehension  and  sadness,  the 
other  was  filled  with  hope  and  joy.  Wliich  party  was 
most  numerous  in  those  days  that  immediately  preceded 
the  war  was  a  matter  of  uncertainty.  Upon  which  side 
our  neighbors,  our  partners  in  business,  and  often  those 
of  our  own  households  would  array  themselves  it  was 
difficult  to  determine.  Nor  could  we  forget  that  the 
announcement  of  the  secession  of  a  State  might  lead 
to  bloody  conflict  in  our  streets.  Under  such  peculiar 
circumstances  the  proposed,  or  actual,  secession  of  States 
stirred  profoundly  our  whole  city.  The  excitement  was 
not  noisy,  it  was  too  deep  for  that.  Men  met,  and 
transacted  business,  without  uttering  a  word  concern 
ing  the  country.  Many  of  the  most  thoughtful  seemed 
to  hold  their  breath  and  listen  to  the  beating  of  their 

1W.  R.  S.  4,  Vol.  I,  pp.  1-75. 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  25 

hearts.  Not  because  they  were  afraid,  but  because, 
standing  in  the  presence  of  such  portentous  move 
ments,  they  did  not  yet  know  what  they  ought  to  do. 

Still,  some  relief  came  from  engaging  in  the  benevo 
lent  activities  of  the  churches  and  in  attending  the 
usual  concerts  and  lectures.  Among  the  lecturers  were 
two  of  special  note.  One  was  the  Hon.  Thomas  Marshall 
of  Kentucky.  He  was  a  brilliant  man.  He  had  won 
distinction  at  the  bar,  when  his  State  was  noted  for  able 
lawyers;  the  highest  legal  and  political  honors  were 
within  his  grasp;  but  through  drink  he  had  sadly  sacri 
ficed  them  all.  At  times  he  rallied  and  seemed  to  have 
conquered  his  infirmity.  During  these  sane  and  sober 
intervals,  to  turn  an  honest  penny  he  sometimes  lec 
tured.  Occasionally  from  the  depths  of  his  own  sad 
experience,  with  rare  eloquence,  he  advocated  total 
abstinence.  In  the  winter  of  1860-61  he  lectured  in 
St.  Louis.  He  was  a  tall  man  and  well-proportioned. 
He  came  to  the  lecture  platform  dressed  from  top  to  toe 
in  spotless  white.  He  spoke  without  notes  and  with 
ease.  His  articulation  was  distinct.  At  times  he  was 
simply  and  naturally  conversational;  at  times  he 
became  imaginative  and  impassioned;  in  his  oratorical 
flights  he  profoundly  impressed  and  swayed  his  audi 
ences.  He  was  a  Union  man,  and  among  the  subjects 
that  he  chose  for  discussion  in  our  city  were  Henry 
Clay,  and  the  war  of  the  Revolution.  He  tried  by  his 
lectures  to  stir  in  the  hearts  of  his  hearers  the  purest 
and  loftiest  patriotism.  All  that  was  noblest  and  best 
in  Mr.  Clay  as  a  man  and  as  a  statesman  was  justly 
and  vividly  set  forth.  In  speaking  on  the  Revolution 
he  did  all  that  he  could  to  lead  those  who  at  times 
hung  upon  his  lips  with  breathless  interest  to  defend 
the  government  which  had  been  wrought  out  at  so  great 


26         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

self-sacrifice.  In  this  manner  he  rendered  to  our  city 
and  to  his  country  an  invaluable  patriotic  service,  at  a 
time  when,  and  in  a  place  where,  it  was  most  needed. 

In  his  lectures  on  the  Revolutionary  War  he  was 
compelled  to  speak  at  considerable  length  on  the  price 
less  contributions  made  to  that  conflict  for  freedom 
by  Massachusetts.  But  at  that  time  Massachusetts 
was  foolishly  but  intensely  hated  by  many  in  St.  Louis. 
Many  men  with  Southern  sentiments  seemed  to  regard 
it  as  a  duty  and  privilege  to  reproach  her.  There  were 
before  him  not  a  few  hearers  of  that  sort.  How  could 
he  surmount  an  obstacle  so  great?  When  he  reached 
the  passage  in  which  he  was  to  set  forth  what  Massa 
chusetts  did  during  the  period  of  the  Revolution,  he 
uttered  the  name,  "  Massachusetts,"  —  and  then 
stopped  speaking,  and  looked  at  his  audience.  Every 
eye  was  riveted  on  him.  He  walked  slowly  to  the 
extreme  left  end  of  the  platform.  There  he  stood  for  a 
moment  in  silence,  still  surveying  his  audience.  Then 
he  said  deliberately,  "  I  suppose  that  it  would  be  the 
popular  thing  in  this  place  to  damn  Massachusetts; 
but  whatever  you  may  think  of  her  now,  in  the  Revolu 
tion  she  was  some  pumpkins."  The  great  audience 
broke  out  into  a  hearty  and  prolonged  cheer.  With 
marvellous  tact  and  consummate  art  he  had  brushed 
the  obstacle  that  confronted  him  from  his  path;  broken 
down  the  wall  that  separated  him  from  his  hearers,  and 
for  the  nonce  they  listened  without  prejudice  as  he 
glowingly  set  forth  the  great  work  which  Massachusetts 
did  in  achieving  our  independence. 

A  few  days  afterwards  I  caught  my  last  glimpse  of 
this  fascinating  orator.  A  damp  snow  had  fallen. 
It  lay  fully  two  inches  deep,  half-melted  on  the  brick 
sidewalk.  He  came  out  of  a  house  on  Chestnut  Street 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  27 

where  he  was  being  entertained  by  a  friend.  He  was 
hatless  and  in  his  study-gown  and  slippers.  He  walked 
hurriedly  on  through  the  slush.  His  eye  was  wild. 
The  demon  that  had  robbed  him  of  wealth,  of  a  good 
name,  of  friends,  of  untold  usefulness  once  more  had 
him  in  his  relentless  clutch. 

During  the  same  winter  the  Hon.  Joshua  R.  Giddings, 
a  lawyer  of  high  standing,  came  to  lecture  in  our  city. 
He  was  not  a  brilliant  speaker  like  Mr.  Marshall;  but 
he  had  something  to  say  which  was  of  real  value  to 
his  fellow-citizens.  He  had  no  flights  of  oratory,  but 
he  uttered  sound  sense  and  talked  right  on.  He  was 
a  self-made  man  of  massive  character.  For  twenty-one 
years  he  had  represented  in  the  United  States  Congress 
the  Connecticut  Western  Reserve  in  northeastern  Ohio, 
and  during  all  that  long  period  of  important  public 
service  had  sturdily  opposed  slavery.  He  had  been 
assaulted  and  mobbed  in  Washington  for  his  opinions. 
But  no  vituperative  opposition  in  debate,  nor  physical 
violence  daunted  him.  Seeing  his  unflinching  courage, 
many  that  did  not  endorse  his  political  doctrines,  nor 
approve  of  his  course  of  action,  admired  him.  He  came 
to  St.  Louis  with  the  garnered  wisdom  of  years  and  with 
convictions  as  firm  and  immovable  as  a  mountain  of 
granite.  Still,  a  large  number  did  not  gather  to  hear 
him.  He  was  generally  regarded  as  an  abolitionist, 
and  that,  in  the  estimation  of  most  men  in  St.  Louis 
of  all  parties,  was  worthy  of  the  deepest  detestation. 
He  spoke  in  Mercantile  Library  Hall.  It  was  about 
two-thirds  full.  Many  that  came  had  no  sympathy 
with  the  speaker's  views.  They  were  attracted  by 
curiosity;  they  wished  to  hear  what  this  old  anti- 
slavery  war-horse  would  say  in  the  great  commercial 
city  of  a  slave  State.  His  lecture  was  a  plain  unvar- 


28          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

nished  statement  of  the  rise  and  growth  of  slavery 
in  the  United  States.  When  about  half  way  through 
his  address  he  made  a  declaration  that  aroused  the 
antagonism  of  a  part  of  his  audience,  which  expressed 
itself  in  an  emphatic  and  prolonged  hiss.  Those  in 
sympathy  with  the  doctrine  of  the  speaker  answered 
the  hiss  with  a  loud  and  hearty  cheer.  After  the  cheer 
there  was  a  still  more  determined  hiss,  which  was  quickly 
followed  by  a  still  louder  cheer.  But  at  last  when  there 
came  a  lull  in  this  sharply  contested  battle  of  hissing 
and  cheering,  the  lecturer,  who  had  stood  without  the 
slightest  movement  coolly  surveying  the  tumultuous 
scene,  said,  in  a  strong,  clear  voice,  "  It  makes  no  differ 
ence  to  me  whether  you  hiss  or  cheer."  By  that  one 
declaration  he  seemed  to  capture  his  entire  audience, 
and  all  broke  out  into  enthusiastic  applause.  True 
men  everywhere  admire  honesty  and  pluck.  The  coming 
to  our  city  of  one  so  prominent  among  anti-slavery  men, 
who  was  permitted  to  make  unhindered  a  judicial  and 
luminous  historical  statement  of  the  beginning  and 
development  of  African  slavery  in  our  country,  before 
a  large  audience  of  our  fellow-citizens,  marked  for  us 
the  dawn  of  a  new  era.  The  old  was  passing,  the  new 
with  its  broader  freedom  was  at  hand. 

But  on  New  Year's  Day  of  1861  we  were  startled 
by  an  event  altogether  unique.  It  filled  many  pro-slavery 
men  with  bitter  resentment,  but  put  new  life  and  hope 
into  anti-slavery  men  of  all  shades  of  opinion,  and  even 
some  who  were  supposed  to  uphold  slavery  were  amused 
and  in  their  secret  souls  rejoiced  over  the  strange  hap 
pening.  It  came  to  pass  in  this  wise.  When  estates 
in  St.  Louis  and  St.  Louis  County  were  in  process  of 
settlement,  there  were  often  slaves  belonging  to  them 
that  must  be  disposed  of  at  their  market  value.  But 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  29 

when  there  was  no  immediate  demand  for  such  property 
these  poor  creatures  were  put  for  safe  keeping  into  the 
county  jail,  until  they  could  be  sold.  Of  course  they 
were  not  regarded  as  criminals,  but  simply  as  valuable 
assets  that,  having  brains,  and  wills,  and  consciences, 
might  run  away,  to  the  financial  detriment  of  voracious 
heirs.  So,  until  the  conditions  were  favorable  for  a 
sale,  these  self-willed  chattels  were  securely  lodged 
behind  the  stone  walls  and  barred  doors  and  windows 
of  the  malodorous  jail. 

In  connection  with  this  reprehensible  procedure,  a 
culpable  custom  had  sprung  up,  —  a  custom  exceedingly 
offensive  to  most  of  the  inhabitants  of  St.  Louis.  It  had 
become  the  duty  of  the  sheriff,  or  his  deputy,  when  the 
kind-hearted  heirs  gave  the  order,  to  sell  at  auction, 
on  New  Year's  Day,  these  imprisoned  slaves  from  the 
granite  steps  of  the  Court-house.  So,  on  the  first  of 
January,  1861,  a  slave  auctioneer  appeared  with  seven 
colored  chattels  of  various  hues,  the  thinking  fag-ends 
of  estates,  just  led  out  by  him  from  the  jail,  where, 
some  of  them,  for  more  than  a  year,  without  having 
been  charged  with  any  crime  or  misdemeanor,  had 
been  forced  to  be  the  companions  of  thieves,  adulterers, 
and  murderers.  The  auctioneer  placed  these  cowering 
slaves  on  the  pedestal  of  one  of  the  massive  pillars  of 
the  Court-house.  Crowning  the  cupola  of  this  building, 
dedicated  to  the  righteous  interpretation  and  execution 
of  the  law,  was  a  statue  of  Justice,  with  eyes  blind 
folded,  holding  in  her  hand  a  pair  of  scales,  the  symbol 
of  impartial  equity.  From  the  top  of  the  great  granite 
pillar,  beside  which  these  shrinking  human  chattels 
stood,  waved  for  the  hour  a  star-spangled  banner,  the 
symbol  of  freedom  for  all  the  oppressed.  This  auction 
of  slaves  had  been  extensively  advertised,  and  about 


30          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

two  thousand  young  men  had  secretly  banded  them 
selves  together  to  stop  the  sale  and,  if  possible,  put  an 
end  to  this  annual  disgrace.  The  auctioneer  on  his 
arrival  at  the  Court-house  found  this  crowd  of  freemen 
in  a  dense  mass  waiting  for  him.  The  sight  of  bondmen 
about  to  be  offered  for  sale,  and  that  too  under  the 
floating  folds  of  their  national  flag,  crimsoned  their 
cheeks  with  shame  and  made  their  hearts  hot  within 
them.  Yet  they  scarcely  uttered  a  word  as  they  stood 
watching  the  auctioneer  and  the  timid,  shrinking  slaves 
at  his  side.  At  last  he  was  ready  and  cried  out,  "  What 
will  you  bid  for  this  able-bodied  boy?  l  There's  not  a 
blemish  on  him."  Then  the  indignant,  determined 
crowd  in  response  cried  out,  at  the  top  of  their  lungs, 
"  Three  dollars,  three  dollars,"  and  without  a  break 
kept  up  the  cry  for  twenty  minutes  or  more.  The  auc 
tioneer  yelled  to  make  himself  heard  above  that  deafen 
ing  din  of  voices,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  At  last,  how 
ever,  the  cry  of  the  crowd  died  away.  Was  it  simply 
a  good-natured  joke  only  carried  a  little  too  far?  The 
auctioneer  seemed  to  be  in  doubt  how  to  take  that 
vociferating  throng.  "  Now,"  he  said  in  a  bantering 
tone,  "  gentlemen,  don't  make  fools  of  yourselves; 
how  much  will  you  bid  for  this  boy?  "  Then,  for  many 
minutes,  they  shouted,  "Four  dollars,  four  dollars," 
and  the  frantic  cries  of  the  auctioneer  were  swallowed 
up  in  that  babel  of  yells;  his  efforts  were  as  futile  as 
if  he  had  attempted  to  whistle  a  tornado  into  silence. 
To  the  joy  of  that  crowd  of  young  men  the  auctioneer 
was  at  last  in  a  rage.  It  had  dawned  upon  him  that  this 
was  no  joke;  that  the  crowd  before  him  were  not 
shouting  for  fun  on  this  annual  holiday,  but  were  in 
dead  earnest.  When  their  cries  once  more  died  away, 
1  They  called  all  male  slaves,  boys. 


Forebodings  of  Conflict  31 

he  soundly  berated  them  for  their  conduct.  But  they 
answered  his  scolding  and  storming  with  jeers  and  cat 
calls.  At  last  he  again  asked,  "  How  much  will  you  bid 
for  this  first-class  nigger?  "  This  was  answered  by  a 
simultaneous  shout  of  "  Five  dollars,  five  dollars/'  and 
the  roar  of  voices  did  not  stop  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
And  so  the  battle  went  on.  The  bid  did  not  get  above 
eight  dollars,  and  at  the  end  of  two  hours  of  exaspera 
ting  and  futile  effort,  the  defeated  auctioneer  led  his 
ebony  charges  back  to  the  jail.  Through  the  force  of 
public  opinion  freedom  had  triumphed.  No  public 
auction  of  slaves  was  ever  again  attempted  in  St.  Louis. 
But  in  the  cries  and  counter  cries  of  the  auctioneer  and 
that  throng  of  freemen  could  be  felt  the  pulsations  of 
the  coming  conflict.  We  had  before  us  in  concrete 
form  Lincoln's  doctrine,  that  the  nation  cannot  exist 
half  slave  and  half  free. 


CHAPTER   III 

RUMBLINGS   OF  THE   CONFLICT 

FAR  away  to  the  south  we  now  began  to  hear,  like 
the  low  growling  of  distant  thunder,  a  rumbling  of  the 
approaching  conflict.  Early  in  1861,  secession  ordinances 
in  quick  succession  were  passed  by  the  Gulf  States. 
By  February  1st  all  of  them,  following  the  lead  of  South 
Carolina,  through  the  action  of  their  respective  State 
conventions,  had  severed  their  relations  with  the  Union. 
They  also  forcibly  seized  United  States  forts,  arsenals, 
arms,  custom-houses,  lighthouses  and  subtreasuries. 
In  Texas  the  United  States  troops  had  been  treacher 
ously  surrendered.  The  Federal  government  offered 
no  resistance  to  those  who  thus  trampled  on  its  authority, 
inaugurated  revolution,  and  resorted  to  acts  of  war. 

These  hostile  movements,  coming  before  the  inaugu 
ration  of  the  President-elect,  made  all  classes  in  St. 
Louis  anxiously  thoughtful.  To  be  sure  a  few  extreme 
pro-slavery  men,  who  were  pronounced  secessionists, 
heartily  approved  of  what  the  Cotton  States  had  done, 
and  were  secretly  rejoicing  over  it.  From  prudential 
motives  they  refrained  from  open  and  noisy  support 
of  the  acts  of  the  seceding  States;  but  most  of  our 
fellow-citizens,  who  had  formerly  lived  in  States  further 
south,  regarded  these  early  acts  of  secession  as  at  least 
ill-timed  and  precipitate,  as  born  of  thoughtless,  ground 
less  hatred  and  blind  passion.  They  were  not  at  all 
prepared  to  join  this  open  and  violent  revolt  against 


Rumblings  of  the  Conflict  33 

the  Federal  government,  and  to  engage  in  the  unlawful 
seizure  of  its  property.  And  in  this  conservative, 
pro-slavery  class  lay  the  hope  of  the  unconditional 
Union  men  of  St.  Louis  and  Missouri.  If  its  undivided 
influence,  through  any  motives,  however  diverse,  could 
be  directed  firmly  against  the  secession  of  our  State, 
we  might  remain  in  the  Union. 

Very  few  in  St.  Louis  had  at  all  anticipated  such  early, 
radical,  revolutionary  action  on  the  part  of  the  Gulf 
States,  and  perhaps  least  of  all  was  it  foreseen  by  those 
who  were  unconditionally  loyal.  They  had  fondly 
hoped  that  threatened  secession  would  expend  itself 
simply  in  violent  talk ;  that  a  second  and  sober  thought 
would  come  to  control  the  acts  of  the  pro-slavery  States ; 
that  the  ill  wind  would  blow  over  without  doing  any 
serious  damage.  They  knew,  to  be  sure,  that  a  mes 
senger  from  Alabama  had,  in  December,  visited  our 
Governor  and  Governor-elect,  urging  them  to  join 
in  a  concerted  secession  movement  of  the  slave  States; 
that  in  that  same  month  South  Carolina  had  passed  an 
ordinance  of  secession;  but  they  could  not  believe  that 
this  madness  would  continue,  that  the  slave  States 
would  generally  be  infected  by  it.  To  their  minds 
abrupt  and  violent  secession  was  so  palpably  foolish 
that  it  seemed  to  them  impossible  that  it  could  be  ap 
proved  by  any  large  number  of  men  in  the  South. 
But  when  in  January  one  State  after  another  seceded, 
and  these  seceded  States  on  the  4th  of  February  as 
sembled  by  their  delegates  at  Montgomery,  Alabama, 
formed  a  confederacy,  adopted  a  provisional  govern 
ment,  and  elected  a  president  and  vice-president,  they 
unmistakably  heard  in  the  distance  the  angry  growl 
of  the  coming  bloody  conflict.1 

1  W.  R.  S.  4,  Vol.  I,  pp.  1-75. 


34          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

The  loyal  men  of  St.  Louis  turned  their  eyes  to 
Washington,  hoping  that  they  might  discern  something 
there  which  would  quiet  their  baleful  apprehensions. 
But  instead  of  sunshine  and  hope,  they  saw  there  the 
same  black  war-cloud.  The  representatives  and  senators 
of  the  seceding  States  were  shamelessly  plotting  the 
overthrow  of  the  very  government  in  whose  legislative 
councils  they  still  continued  to  sit.  In  the  Cabinet  of 
the  President  were  some  who  were  aiding  and  abetting 
secession.  The  Secretary  of  War,  John  Buchanan 
Floyd  of  Virginia,  had  sent  large  detachments  of  the 
standing  army  to  distant  and  not  easily  accessible 
parts  of  the  country,  and  had  removed  large  quantities 
of  arms  and  ammunition  from  Northern  to  Southern 
arsenals,  that,  at  the  beginning  of  the  conflict,  which 
he  evidently  believed  to  be  close  at  hand,  the  South 
might  be  better  prepared  for  battle  than  the  North. 
In  the  midst  of  all  this  treachery  the  chief  executive 
sat  nerveless.  In  his  last  annual  message,  he  declared 
that  the  general  government  had  no  power  to  coerce 
a  State.  He  said : "  After  much  serious  reflection,  I  have 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  no  such  power  has  been 
delegated  to  Congress,  nor  to  any  other  department 
of  the  Federal  government."  He  again  declared: 
"  The  power  to  make  war  against  a  State  is  at  variance 
with  the  whole  spirit  and  intent  of  the  Constitution." 
Moreover,  he  asserted:  "  Congress  possesses  many 
means  of  preserving  it  (the  Union)  by  conciliation;  but 
the  sword  was  not  placed  in  its  hand  to  preserve  it 
by  force."  This  message  for  a  moment  quite  disheart 
ened  the  loyal  men  of  our  city.  The  executive  of  a  great 
nation,  by  his  own  public  confession,  stood  powerless 
before  those  domestic  foes  that  were  tearing  down  the 
government  bequeathed  us  by  our  fathers.  In  his 


Rumblings  of  the  Conflict  35 

message  he  assured  them  that  with  impunity  they  could 
complete  their  work  of  dismembering  the  Republic. 
So  for  a  time  the  secessionists  seemed  to  have  the  upper 
hand  all  around;  at  Montgomery  they  ruled  over  the 
seceded  States ;  at  Washington  they  subsidized  to  their 
own  interests  the  Federal  government;  its  President 
openly  proclaiming  that,  do  what  they  might,  he  had 
no  constitutional  power  to  lay  upon  them  punitively 
even  the  weight  of  a  finger. 

We  had  no  Andrew  Jackson  in  the  presidential  chair. 
In  1832,  when  South  Carolina  arrayed  herself  against 
the  general  government  and  proceeded  to  nullify  its 
legislative  acts,  he  said  with  an  emphasis  which  showed 
that  he  was  conscious  of  having  the  whole  constitu 
tional  power  of  the  nation  behind  him  to  make  his 
words  effective,  "  The  Union,  it  must,  and  shall  be, 
preserved;  "  and  nullification  in  weakness  and  shame 
hid  itself.  If  we  had  had  such  a  President  in  December, 
1860,  when  South  Carolina  seceded,  we  might  have 
been  saved  from  the  awful  conflict  that,  unchecked  in 
its  beginning,  daily  gathered  to  itself  power  until  it 
was  almost  beyond  control. 

Loyal  men  throughout  the  nation  utterly  repudiated 
the  President's  interpretation  of  the  Constitution. 
The  unconditional  Unionists  of  St  Louis  shared  the 
thoughts  that  were  pervading  and  agitating  the  minds 
of  all  true  patriots.  But  they  had  anxieties  which  were 
peculiar  to  all,  in  the  border  slave  States,  who  were  un 
compromisingly  loyal  to  the  Federal  government.  These 
States,  largely  on  strictly  economic  grounds,  hesitated 
to  join  in  the  secession  movement;  still  a  large  majority 
of  their  inhabitants  were  in  profound  sympathy  with 
the  underlying  cause  of  secession,  the  preservation  and 
perpetuation  of  slavery.  So  the  absorbing  thought  of 


36          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

the  uncompromisingly  loyal  men  of  St.  Louis  was, 
whether,  in  the  sweep  of  events,  they  would  be  drawn 
with  their  State,  against  their  will,  into  the  vortex 
of  secession.  What  could  they  do  to  avert  such  a  dire 
calamity?  They  still  hoped,  even  when  hope  was  seem 
ingly  baseless,  that  as  muttering  storms  which  blacken 
the  horizon  often  pass  on  and  away  forever,  so  in  some 
way,  hidden  from  their  view,  this  rising,  growling  storm 
of  rebellion  and  revolution  would  be  finally  dissipated, 
leaving  the  southern  sky  once  more  clear  and  serene. 
Nevertheless,  while  they  were  thoughtful  and  anxious, 
they  were  undaunted.  There  never  was  a  band  of  braver 
men.  The  precipitate  acts  of  the  Gulf  States,  the  dis 
integration  of  the  national  Congress,  the  unrebuked 
intrigues  in  the  Cabinet  of  the  subservient  President 
saddened,  but  did  not  terrify  them.  By  these  untoward 
and  ominous  events  their  courage  was  re-enforced, 
their  vision  cleared,  their  purpose  made  definite  and 
robust.  They  resolved  anew  to  resist  with  all  their 
heart,  and  with  all  their  mind,  and  with  all  their  strength 
the  secession  of  Missouri  from  the  Union.  Any  that  had 
been  timid  became  suddenly  courageous;  any  that  had 
been  weak  became  strong  in  spirit.  These  unconditional 
loyal  men,  surrounded  by  a  morass  of  difficulties,  beset 
on  every  side  by  insidious,  plotting  political  foes, 
often  utterly  at  a  loss  in  whom  to  confide,  with  every 
thing  seemingly  against  them,  at  last,  fully  aroused  and 
braced  for  the  conflict,  became  the  hope?  and,  as  it 
proved,  the  political  salvation  of  St.  Louis  and  Missouri. 
They  became  the  leaders  who,  by  wise  counsels  and  sane 
action,  gathered  around  them  the  conservative  pro- 
slavery  men  of  the  city  and  the  commonwealth,  and 
these  two  classes  standing  together  saved  the  State 
from  the  disaster  of  secession. 


Rumblings  of  the  Conflict  37 

The  fourth  of  March  drew  near.  Mr.  Lincoln,  in 
tender,  pathetic  speech,  bade  adieu  to  his  neighbors 
at  Springfield  and  hastened  on  to  Washington.  As  he 
journeyed  towards  the  national  capital  the  loyal  of 
St.  Louis  followed  him  with  almost  breathless  interest. 
They  pored  over  his  short  speeches  to  the  crowds  that 
gathered  to  greet  him  at  railway  stations.  They  were 
thrilled  with  his  brave  and  patriotic  utterances  at 
Independence  Hall  in  Philadelphia.  In  the  malicious 
plot  laid  at  Baltimore,  they  heard  once  more  the  rum 
bling  of  the  approaching  conflict;  and  when,  in  his 
great  inaugural  address,  he  said,  "  In  your  hands, 
my  dissatisfied  fellow  countrymen,  and  not  in  mine,  is  the 
momentous  issue  of  civil  war.  The  government  will 
not  assail  you.  You  can  have  no  conflict,  without  being 
yourselves  the  aggressors.  You  have  no  oath  registered 
in  Heaven  to  destroy  the  government,  while  I  shall 
have  the  most  solemn  one  l  to  preserve,  protect,  and 
defend '  it; "  we  knew  that,  if  neither  the  Federal 
government  nor  the  secessionists  yielded,  the  civil  war 
of  which  the  President  spoke  would  inevitably  burst 
upon  us. 

But  the  rumblings  of  the  bloody  conflict  were  not 
heard  alone  in  the  black  war-clouds  that  hung  threaten 
ingly  over  the  Gulf  States  and  the  national  capital,  but 
at  last  directly  over  the  streets  along  which  we  daily 
walked. 

Succeeding  the  inauguration  of  Mr.  Lincoln  there  was 
a  period  of  silence  more  painful  than  actual  battle.  To 
us  who  were  straining  our  eyes  toward  Washington, 
to  see  what  the  President,  of  whom  we  expected  so 
much,  was  doing;  who,  intent,  were  listening  that  we 
might  hear  from  his  lips  words  of  cheer  and  wisdom,  he 
seemed  to  be  paralyzed.  We  saw  nothing.  We  heard 


38         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

nothing.  Perhaps  he  was  vainly  hoping  that  those 
already  in  rebellion  against  the  general  government 
would  yield  to  his  eloquent  appeal  at  the  close  of  his 
famous  inaugural.  "  I  am  loth  to  close.  We  are  not 
enemies,  but  friends.  We  must  not  be  enemies.  Though 
passion  may  have  strained,  it  must  not  break,  our  bonds 
of  affection.  The  mystic  chords  of  memory,  stretching 
from  every  battlefield  and  patriot  grave,  to  every  living 
heart  and  hearthstone,  all  over  this  broad  land,  will 
yet  swell  the  chorus  of  the  Union,  when  again  touched, 
as  surely  they  will  be,  by  the  better  angels  of  our  nature." 
But  he  could  not,  by  any  appeal  however  reasonable  and 
urgent,  persuade  men  in  the  Cotton  States.  It  was  too 
late.  He  could  not  extinguish  a  conflagration  by  pour 
ing  oil  upon  it.  Perhaps,  however,  he  himself  had  no 
hope  of  peace,  but  was  noiselessly  preparing  for  the 
inevitable  conflict.  But  whatever  was  the  cause  of  these 
days  of  silence,  they  were  days  of  sorest  trial  to  the  loyal 
of  our  city. 

During  all  this  time  the  secessionists  were  active; 
active  everywhere  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line; 
active  in  St.  Louis.  For  the  sake  of  peace  in  our  city, 
loyal  men  still  withheld  from  the  public  gaze  the  Stars 
and  Stripes,  but  just  at  this  time,  when  the  Unionists 
were  greatly  depressed,  when  the  tension  of  mind  and 
heart  was  so  great  that  it  seemed  that  the  addition  of 
another  grain  would  be  unendurable,  a  rebel  flag, 
attached  to  a  wire,  was  hung  out  over  Sixth  Street 
near  one  of  the  central  avenues  of  the  city.  The  war- 
cloud  was  now  right  over  our  heads.  From  its  black 
belly  a  thunderbolt  might  fall  at  any  moment.  I  saw 
the  whole  street  under  that  defiant,  revolutionary  flag 
packed  with  angry  men.  They  had  flocked  together 
without  collusion,  from  a  spontaneous  and  common 


Rumblings  of  the  Conflict  39 

impulse.  They  were  a  unit  in  their  determination  to 
tear  down  that  symbol  of  revolt  and  destroy  it.  My 
whole  soul  was  knit  in  sympathy  with  that  pulsating, 
heaving,  throbbing  throng  all  aflame  with  patriotic  pas 
sion.  But  there  soon  appeared,  mounted  on  a  barrel,  at 
the  side  of  the  street,  a  citizen,  southern-born,  and  highly 
respected  by  all.  He  spoke  from  a  full  heart  earnest 
words  to  his  friends  and  neighbors.  The  din  of  voices 
gradually  died  away.  The  speaker  was  master  of  the 
situation.  He  assured  that  excited,  indignant  multi 
tude  that  he  was  in  full  tide  of  sympathy  with  them, 
that  he  too  ardently  longed  to  tear  down  that  insulting 
banner,  but  in  eloquent,  impassioned  words  he  entreated 
them  to  bear  patiently  the  stinging  indignity  offered 
to  a  loyal  city,  and  not  needlessly  to  precipitate  mortal 
combat  between  those  who  had  been  for  years  neighbors 
and  friends.  He  assured  them  that  the  secession  flag 
would  soon  be  taken  down  by  the  authority  and  arm 
of  the  government,  the  star-spangled  banner  would  be 
vindicated  and  would  float  in  honor  and  triumph  over 
our  streets.  The  quieted  but  resentful  crowd  by  de 
grees  melted  away  and  the  stars  and  bars,  oh,  the  shame 
of  it!  was  left  there  for  a  few  days  to  flutter  undis 
turbed  in  the  breeze.  It  however  did  a  good  work. 
Every  loyal  man  that  saw  it,  determined  as  never 
before  to  stand  for,  and,  if  need  be,  to  fight  for  the 
integrity  of  the  Union.  So  that  over-hanging,  growling, 
threatening  cloud  did  not  hurl  its  bloody  bolt  among 
us.  We  were,  in  spite  of  it,  mercifully  still  at  peace. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  BOOMERANG  CONVENTION  1 

MISSOURI  could  not  escape  the  dreaded,  impending 
conflict.  She  carried  the  elements  of  it  within  her  own 
bosom.  Union  and  disunion  forces  angrily  faced  each 
other  throughout  all  her  borders.  They  jostled  each 
other  in  the  streets,  marts  and  society  of  St.  Louis.  But 
amid  these  strong  cross-currents  of  opinion,  she  re 
mained  securely  anchored  to  the  Union.  She  was,  to 
be  sure,  somewhat  battered  and  broken,  but  was  sur 
prisingly  kept  from  the  disaster  of  disunionism,  that 
overtook  most  of  her  sister  slave  States.  It  is  my 
object  in  this  chapter  to  show  that  this  great  State, 
probably  contrary  to  the  expectation  of  a  majority 
of  her  inhabitants,  was  early  in  1861,  through  the  very 
machinery  devised  to  take  her  out  of  the  Union,  kept 
from  that  destructive  folly. 

When  a  Southern  State  contemplated  seceding  from 
the  Union,  first  of  all,  through  an  act  of  its  legislature, 
it  provided  for  the  creation  of  a  sovereign  Convention. 
The  delegates  to  this  Convention  were  duly  elected  by 
the  people.  At  the  appointed  time  they  assembled, 
organized  for  business,  and  took  up  the  question  of 
secession,  which  they  had  been  chosen  to  examine 
and  decide.  If  they  passed  an  ordinance  of  seces- 

JSee,  on  this  whole  Chapter,  Journal  and  Proceedings  of  the 
Missouri  State  Convention,  1861. 


The  Boomerang  Convention  41 

sion,  it  was  believed  that  by  such  action  the  relations 
of  the  State  to  the  Union  were  utterly  and  irrevo 
cably  severed,  unless  the  convention  determined  of  its 
own  motion,  or  was  required  by  the  legislative  act  that 
called  it  into  being,  to  submit  the  ordinance  to  the 
people  to  be  ratified  or  rejected  by  their  suffrages. 
For  example,  in  Texas  and  Virginia  the  secession  ordi 
nances  were  ratified  by  popular  vote. 

In  Missouri  the  secession  Governor,  re-enforced  by 
a  secession  legislature,  early  in  1861,  began  to  devise 
measures  to  take  the  State  out  of  the  Union.  He  followed 
in  the  wake  of  the  Cotton  States.  The  legislature,  in 
full  sympathy  with  him,  passed  an  act  which  provided 
for  the  calling  of  a  State  Convention.  In  a  "  Whereas," 
which  precedes  the  sections  of  this  act,  it  announced 
in  fair  words  its  "opinion,"  that  "  The  condition  of 
public  affairs  demands  that  a  Convention  of  the  people 
be  called  to  take  such  action  as  the  interest  and  wel 
fare  of  the  State  may  require."  Then  the  act  specifies 
the  time  and  the  conditions  of  the  election  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  contemplated  Convention,  and  specifically 
designates  the  subject  that  the  Convention  was  expected 
to  consider,  viz.:  "The  then  existing  relations  between 
the  government  of  the  United  States,  the  people  and 
governments  of  the  different  States,  and  the  govern 
ment  and  people  of  the  State  of  Missouri,  and  to  adopt 
such  measures  for  vindicating  the  sovereignty  of  the 
State,  and  the  protection  of  its  institutions  as  shall 
appear  to  them  to  be  demanded."  But  this  act  con 
tained  one  section  of  vital  importance.  It  provided 
that  any  act  of  the  Convention,  changing  or  dissolving 
the  political  relations  of  Missouri  "to  the  government 
of  the  United  States,"  should  not  be  deemed  valid 
until  ratified  by  a  majority  of  the  qualified  voters  of  the 


42         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

State.  However,  when  this  act  became  a  law,  neither 
the  Governor  nor  the  legislature  seemed  to  have  the 
slightest  doubt  that  the  people  of  the  State  would 
ratify  by  a  decided  majority  an  ordinance  of  secession; 
happily,  no  occasion  ever  arose  for  testing  that  question. 
Nor  was  the  confidence  entertained  by  the  Governor 
and  the  legislature  unfounded.  They  had  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  same  voters  who  had  elected  them, 
when  appealed  to,  would  elect  a  Convention  that  would 
favor  their  project  of  secession,  and  that  an  ordinance 
of  secession  submitted  to  them  would  be  triumphantly 
ratified.  But 

"  The  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men 
Gang  aft  agley." 

Still,  to  the  secessionists  at  that  time  all  things  be 
tokened  certain  success.  Their  skies  looked  bright. 
If  there  were  a  threatening  cloud  as  big  as  a  man's  hand 
they  did  not  see  it. 

But  too  great  confidence  often  leads  men  to  overlook 
weaknesses  in  their  most  hopeful  projects.  Those  who 
devised  the  legislative  act  providing  for  a  convention, 
neglected  to  put  into  it  any  provision  for  limiting  its 
continuance  or  life.  It  was  made  a  sovereign  body,  and 
also  the  sole  judge  as  to  the  time  when  it  should  adjourn 
sine  die.  So,  as  we  shall  see,  the  Governor  and  the 
legislature  "  builded  better  than  they  knew."  To 
them  the  Convention  proved  to  be  a  boomerang,  but 
to  the  State  a  priceless  blessing. 

This  act  was  approved  by  the  Governor  on  the  21st 
of  January.  The  election  of  the  members  of  the  Con 
vention  took  place  on  the  18th  of  February,  and  the 
Convention  met,  according  to  the  provision  of  the  act 


The  Boomerang  Convention  43 

by  which  it  was  created,  at  Jefferson  City,  the  capital 
of  the  State,  on  February  28th,  1861. 

But  if  this  Convention  was  to  keep  the  State  from 
secession  as  some  began  to  hope  it  might,  it  was  un 
mistakably  clear  that  it  should  not  continue  its  deliber 
ations  at  the  capital  of  the  State.  Jefferson  City  was 
then  a  small,  and  to  sojourners  in  it,  a  somewhat  desolate 
place.  Since  the  legislature  was  in  session  the  Convention 
could  not  meet  in  its  halls,  which,  for  such  a  body,  were 
the  only  suitable  places  of  meeting  in  the  city.  Instead 
of  that,  the  delegates  were  compelled  to  occupy  for 
their  deliberations  a  small,  repulsive  court-house. 
No  desks  were  there  provided  for  them.  Moreover, 
the  hotel  accommodations  were  meagre  and  unattractive, 
and,  most  of  all,  the  libraries  and  reading-rooms  of  the 
capital  were  about  equivalent  to  nothing.  The  tallow 
candles  and  oil  lamps  which  at  night  gave  just  enough 
light  in  the  houses  and  on  the  muddy  streets  to  make 
darkness  visible,  were  far  more  luminous  than  the 
intellectual  lights  of  that  then  cheerless  place;  and 
the  light  of  the  legislature  then  in  session  was  darkness. 
There  was  at  that  time  hardly  any  considerable  town 
in  Missouri  more  intellectually  stagnant  than  its  capital. 
Should  the  Convention  carry  on  its  deliberations  there, 
its  members  would  have  few  if  any  facilities  for  the 
investigation  of  vastly  important  questions  that  were 
certain  to  arise,  while  all  the  currents  of  influence  that 
would  flow  in  upon  them,  would  urge  them  on  to  declare 
for  secession.  To  all  this  the  Union  men  of  St.  Louis, 
together  with  a  few  scattered  here  and  there  throughout 
the  State,  were  keenly  alive.  Dr.  Linton,  a  distinguished 
physician  of  our  city,  and  a  member  of  the  Convention, 
said,  "When  I  got  to  Jefferson  City  and  heard  nothing 
but  the  ' Marseillaise '  and  ' Dixie '  in  place  of  'The 


44         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Star-Spangled  Banner/  I  felt  uneasy  enough,  and  when 
I  heard  Governor  Jackson  speak  I  felt  badly.  .  .  . 
I  recollect,  with  my  colleague,  Mr.  Broadhead,  hearing 
Dixie  '  played  on  the  streets,  and  that  we  stepped  up 
to  the  leader  of  the  band  and  asked  him  to  play  '  The 
Star-Spangled  Banner; ;  he  said,  being  a  foreigner,  'Me 
'fraid  to  play  that.'  We  assured  him  that  there  was 
no  danger,  and  he  played  one  stanza  of  'The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner/  but  immediately  went  off  into  '  Dixie/ 
and  of  course  we  went  off  in  disgust." 

The  Union  men  of  St.  Louis  not  only  saw  the  danger 
arising  from  the  continuance  of  the  Convention  in 
Jefferson  City,  but  they  determined  if  possible  to  avert 
it.  Having  in  secret  seriously  considered  the  whole 
matter,  they  cautiously  and  wisely  laid  their  plan  to 
bring  the  Convention  to  their  own  city.  Since  many 
men  in  the  State  were  deeply  prejudiced  against  St. 
Louis,  regarding  it  as  the  stronghold  of  Free-soilism, 
it  was  necessary  carefully  to  conceal  the  movement 
that  was  being  made.  If  any  delegate  from  St.  Louis 
had  openly  moved  that  the  Convention  should  adjourn 
to  our  city,  the  motion  would  undoubtedly  have  been 
promptly  and  decisively  voted  down.  But  the  dele 
gates  from  St.  Louis,  instead  of  making  an  open  move, 
quietly  and  unobserved  found  some  delegates  from 
the  country  to  whom  they  deemed  it  safe  to  make 
their  suggestions,  and  without  any  knowledge  of  it  on 
the  part  of  the  Convention  these  men  were  won  to  their 
ideas.  When,  therefore,  the  Convention,  on  the  second 
day  of  its  session,  was  perfecting  its  organization, 
Mr.  Hall  of  Randolph  County,  —  a  strong  pro-slavery 
district  near  the  centre  of  the  State,  —  moved  that  when 
the  Convention  adjourned,  it  should  adjourn  to  meet 
"  in  the  Mercantile  Library  Hall  of  St.  Louis,  on  Monday 


The  Boomerang  Convention  45 

morning  next,  at  10  o'clock."  The  motion  met  with 
strong  opposition,  but  after  some  discussion  it  became 
evident  that  there  was  probably  a  majority  in  its  favor. 
Still,  the  Convention,  wishing  to  act  prudently  in  a 
matter  of  such  vital  importance,  inquired  if  it  were 
certainly  known  that  they  could  occupy  the  hall  men 
tioned  in  the  motion  of  the  gentleman  from  Randolph 
County?  This  brought  to  his  feet  Judge  Samuel  M. 
Breckinridge,  a  delegate  from  St.  Louis,  who  said  that 
at  the  request  of  some  members  from  the  country,  he 
had  already  telegraphed  to  St.  Louis,  and  had  received 
an  answer  that  the  Convention  could  occupy  without 
expense  either  of  the  two  halls  belonging  to  the  Mercan 
tile  Library  Association.  The  undivulged  fact  was  that 
the  Union  men  of  St.  Louis,  days  before,  had  arranged 
to  offer  to  the  Convention,  without  cost,  either  of  these 
halls,  if  by  any  means  that  body  could  be  induced  to 
occupy  it.  At  last,  to  remove  any  objection  that  might 
arise  from  pecuniary  considerations,  the  citizens  of  our 
city  telegraphed  that  the  railroad  fare  of  all  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Convention  had  also  been  provided  for; 
so,  at  the  close  of  the  second  day's  session  at  Jefferson 
City,  on  March  1st,  the  Convention,  by  a  decided 
majority,  adjourned  to  meet  on  the  following  Monday, 
March  4th,  at  10  A.  M.  in  the  Mercantile  Library  Hall 
of  St.  Louis;  and  by  that  move  the  doubt  that  Missouri 
would  secede  from  the  Union  was  greatly  strengthened. 
On  Monday  morning,  when  the  Convention  met  for 
the  first  time  in  its  new  quarters,  its  members  found 
themselves  in  a  beautiful  hall,  such  as  some  of  them 
had  never  before  seen.  Each  member  was  provided 
with  a  desk,  and  pages  were  at  hand  to  do  his  bidding, 
all  at  the  expense  of  the  loyal  men  of  the  city.  The 
free  use  of  the  Mercantile  Library  and  Reading  Room, 


46          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

with  its  papers  and  periodicals  from  every  part  of  the 
Union,  and  also  of  the  Law  Library  of  the  city,  was  also 
tendered  them.  Then,  by  a  secret  prearrangement, 
in  companies  of  from  six  to  twelve,  the  members  of 
the  Convention  were  daily  invited  by  Union  men  to 
dine  with  them;  and,  so  long  as  the  Convention  con 
tinued  its  sessions,  in  the  most  conservative  and  kindly 
way,  at  the  tables  and  in  the  parlors  of  the  best  and 
most  intelligent  men  and  women  of  the  city,  the  whole 
question  of  secession  in  all  its  phases  was  thoroughly 
discussed.  By  such  a  procedure,  without  arousing  an 
tagonism,  deep-rooted  prejudice  began  gradually  to 
give  way,  and  new  light,  unobserved,  penetrated  the 
minds  of  the  members  of  this  sovereign  Convention,  and, 
as  one  by  one  the  days  passed,  the  hope  of  the  disloyal 
that  Missouri  would  secede  was  constantly  on  the  wane. 
Let  us  now  notice  the  composition  of  this  sovereign 
body,  in  whose  hands  was  providentially  placed  the 
political  destiny,  not  only  of  Missouri,  but  perchance 
also  of  the  entire  Republic.  It  had  ninety-nine  mem 
bers.  Of  these,  fifty-two  were  lawyers,  seven  of  whom 
were  judges.  These  men  by  their  training  were  capable 
of  clearly  and  firmly  grasping  the  fundamental  principles 
of  law  and  government.  Happily  more  than  half  of  the 
Convention  was  of  this  class.  Twenty-six  were  farmers, 
who  from  habit  of  thought  were  decidedly  conservative. 
Eleven  were  merchants,  who  intuitively  discerned  the 
conditions  that  must  be  maintained  in  order  to  secure 
and  promote  the  commercial  prosperity  of  their  State. 
Three  were  physicians,  one  of  whom,  Dr.  Linton,  was 
an  exceptionally  clear-headed  and  brilliant  man.  There 
were  also  one  lumber  dealer,  one  bank  commissioner, 
one  civil  engineer,  one  blacksmith,  one  tanner,  one 
leather  dealer  and  one  circuit  clerk.  Each  of  these, 


The  Boomerang  Convention  47 

by  his  pursuit,  was  fitted  to  appreciate  what  was  neces 
sary  to  secure  the  highest  material  interests  of  the  State. 
The  Convention  as  a  whole  was  in  ability  quite  above 
the  average,  and  unmistakably  superior  both  in  intel 
lectual  and  moral  force  to  the  legislature  which  had 
called  it  into  being. 

Considering  the  vastly  important  question  which 
the  Convention  was  called  upon  to  decide,  it  is  also 
a  matter  of  great  interest  to  note  the  ages  of  its  members. 
One  man,  like  an  elderly  maiden,  was  coy,  and  refused 
to  give  his  age;  of  the  remaining  ninety-eight,  six  were 
between  twenty-four  and  thirty;  twenty-one  were  be 
tween  thirty  and  forty;  forty-one  were  between  forty 
and  fifty;  twenty-four  were  between  fifty  and  sixty; 
and  six  were  between  sixty  and  seventy.  Most  of  these 
men,  then,  were  in  the  maturity  and  vigor  of  manhood. 
Two-thirds  of  the  Convention,  lacking  one,  were  between 
forty  and  sixty,  old  enough  to  have  gotten  rid  of  crudities 
of  thinking,  and  the  impulsiveness  and  rashness  of  young 
blood,  and  yet  young  enough  to  be  free  from  the  en 
feebling  touch  of  age. 

And  since  they  were  to  deal  with  the  question  of  seces 
sion,  the  underlying  cause  of  which  was  slavery,  we 
should  not  fail  to  consider  their  nativity,  and  the  influ 
ences  that  surrounded  them  in  early  life,  when  the  deep 
est  and  most  lasting  impressions  are  made  upon  men. 
Thirty  of  the  ninety-nine  delegates  to  this  Convention 
were  born  in  Kentucky;  twenty-three  in  Virginia; 
thirteen  in  Missouri;  nine  in  Tennessee;  three  in  North 
Carolina;  three  in  New  York;  three  in  New  Hampshire; 
two  in  Maryland;  two  in  Pennsylvania;  two  in  Illinois; 
one  in  Alabama;  one  in  the  District  of  Columbia;  one 
in  Ohio;  one  in  New  Jersey;  one  in  Maine;  one  in 
Prussia;  one  in  Bremen;  one  in  Austria;  and  one  in 


48          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Ireland.  Eighty-two  were  born  in  the  South,  including 
the  one  from  the  District  of  Columbia,  while  there  were 
only  thirteen  born  in  the  North  and  four  in  Europe. 
When  we  observe  that  more  than  four-fifths  of  the  Con 
vention  had  been  born  and  brought  up  in  slave  States, 
we  might  rationally  conclude  from  this  surface  view 
that  Missouri  would  soon  follow  her  seven  erring  sisters, 
like  them  secede  from  the  Union,  and  link  her  destiny 
to  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

Beyond  question  the  Convention  was  almost  unani 
mously  pro-slavery.  Some  of  those  born  and  educated 
in  the  North  had  become  sweeping  and  positive  in  their 
advocacy  of  slavery.  There  were  none  in  the  Convention 
who  did  not  denounce  the  Abolitionists,  and  very  many 
of  its  members  condemned  with  equal  severity  the 
Republican  party.  All  of  them,  with  possibly  a  very 
few  exceptions,  desired  to  protect  and  preserve  the 
system  of  human  bondage  that  had  unhappily  fastened 
itself  upon  the  nation.  But  right  here  where  there  was 
so  high  a  degree  of  unanimity,  strange  to  say,  the  Con 
vention  divided.  The  vexed  question  with  them  was, 
"  What  will  preserve  slavery?  "  Some  of  them  were 
in  favor  of  going  out  of  the  Union  to  preserve  it ;  others 
with  at  least  equal  emphasis  and  force  urged  that  in 
order  to  preserve  it  Missouri  must  remain  in  the  Union. 
These  delegates  pointed  to  the  geographical  position 
of  their  State ;  on  three  sides  of  her  were  free  States.  If 
she  should  secede,  she  would  be  confronted  on  the  east, 
north  and  west  by  a  foreign  nation  and  by  hostile  terri 
tory,  which  would  be  an  asylum  for  fugitive  slaves. 
One  speaker  declared:  "  It  will  make  a  Canada  of 
every  Northern  State,  and  the  North  will  be  a  bourne 
from  which  no  slave  traveller  will  return."  Such  men 
vehemently  urged  that  secession  would  be  the  inevitable 


The  Boomerang  Convention  49 

destruction  of  slavery  in  Missouri.  If  the  State  should 
secede,  it  would  not  be  long  before  she  would  present 
to  the  world  the  anomaly  of  a  slave  State  without  a 
slave.  To  be  sure,  the  Cotton  States  withdrew  from 
the  Union  in  order  to  preserve  slavery;  but  even  if 
the  citizens  of  Missouri  believed  that  they  had  the 
constitutional  right  to  secede,  they  could  not  follow 
the  example  of  the  Gulf  States,  for  if  they  did,  they 
would  blot  out  forever  the  very  institution  that  they 
were  so  earnestly  striving  to  save.  So  many  in  Missouri, 
and  not  a  few  in  this  Convention,  reasoned. 

While,  however,  the  Convention  was  divided  on  the 
question  of  the  secession  of  the  State,  and,  during  its 
earlier  sessions,  how  evenly  divided  none  could  tell, 
nearly  all,  if  not  all,  of  its  members  were  professed 
Unionists.  The  people  had  elected  them  as  Unionists. 
It  was  loudly  proclaimed  that  Unionism  had  triumphed 
at  the  polls  by  from  forty  to  sixty  thousand  majority. 
Nearly  every  man  that  spoke  during  the  deliberations 
of  the  Convention  with  great  vigor  asserted  that  he  was 
in  favor  of  maintaining  the  Union.  The  Hon.  Hamilton 
R.  Gamble,  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Federal 
Relations,  in  explaining  to  the  Convention  the  report  of 
that  committee,  said :  "  As  far  as  my  acquaintance  with 
the  gentlemen  of  this  Convention  extends,  I  know 
of  no  gentlemen  who  avow,  or  insinuate,  or  in  any 
manner  admit,  that  they  entertain  any  unfriendly 
feeling  to  the  Union.  You  may  speak  to  any  member 
of  the  Convention  you  please  in  reference  to  his  position 
about  the  Union,  and  he  will  proclaim  that  he  is  in 
favor  of  the  Union.  How,  then,  in  the  introduction 
of  this  question  before  this  body,  shall  I  undertake  to 
speak  in  favor  of  the  Union,  when  there  is  a  unanimity, 
an  entire  unanimity,  among  all  the  members  upon  the 


50          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

very  view  which  I  would  endeavor  to  take  and  en 
force  ?  " 

Any  one  unacquainted  with  the  hair-splitting  political 
doctrines  of  that  day  might  have  been  deceived  by  this 
emphatic  and  universal  profession  of  Unionism  by  the 
members  of  this  sovereign  Convention.  Calhoun  also 
frequently  made  the  strongest  declarations  of  his  warm 
attachment  to  the  Union.  But  neither  he  nor  they  had 
in  mind  the  actual  government  formed  by  the  people 
of  the  States  under  the  Constitution,  in  contradistinction 
to  the  confederation  that  preceded  it,  but  simply  a 
compact  of  sovereign  States,  which  having  been  volun 
tarily  entered  into  could  by  any  State  be  lawfully 
terminated  at  will.  Many  in  this  Convention  were 
conscious  or  unconscious  disciples  of  Calhoun,  and  in 
their  speeches  advocated  his  political  heresies.  Their 
effusive  professions  of  devotion  to  the  Union  deceived 
no  one  who  was  at  all  conversant  with  our  political 
history.  The  Hon.  Mr.  Gamble,  whose  words  I  have 
quoted  in  reference  to  their  "  entire  unanimity  "  for 
the  Union,  understood  them  perfectly,  and  he  expatiated 
on  their  professions  of  devotion  to  the  Union  in  order 
to  induce  them,  if  possible,  to  act  in  accordance  with 
them,  and  to  vote  to  keep  Missouri  in  that  Union  for 
which  they  expressed  such  fervent  love.  On  the  surface 
there  was  unity;  beneath  the  surface,  contrariety. 
Some  of  the  Convention  meant  by  the  Union  a  central 
ized,  sovereign  government  under  the  Constitution, 
while  others  meant  a  loose  compact  of  sovereign  States. 

And  if  both  parties  when  they  spoke  of  the  Union  had 
meant  the  same  thing,  which  manifestly  they  did  not, 
the  phrase,  "  Union  man/'  would  still  have  been  am 
biguous.  In  the  debates  of  the  delegates  it  came  out 
clearly  that  there  were  two  kinds  of  Union  men  in  the 


The  Boomerang  Convention  51 

Convention,  conditional  and  unconditional.  Mr.  Sheeley 
of  Independence  said: "  I  admire  this  Union,  and  while 
perhaps  I  will  stick  in  it  as  long  as  any  man  in  the 
Convention,  who  is  not  an  unconditional  Union  man/' 
thus  openly  announcing  himself  a  conditional  Union 
man.  Mr.  Vanbuskirk  of  Holt  County,  in  an  able 
speech,  declared  that  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  Con 
vention,  "the  whole  matter  is  brought  to  this  point, 
that  it  is  Union  upon  condition;  that  is,  Union  with 
the'buts'  and'ifs/  or  'under  existing  circumstances. "} 
Of  course  that  kind  of  Unionism  was  a  mockery.  Only 
about  six  months  before,  the  rabid  secessionist,  Yancey 
of  Alabama,  had  proclaimed  himself  to  be  a  pre-eminent 
Union  man,  but  declared  that  if  Abraham  Lincoln 
should  be  elected  to  the  Presidency,  he  would  favor 
immediate  secession.  That  was  being  a  Calhoun  Union 
ist,  a  Unionist  according  to  a  construction  of  the  Con 
stitution  that  was  utterly  at  variance  with  John  Mar 
shall's  interpretation  of  it.  In  1861,  in  Missouri,  when 
ever  a  man  said,  "  I  am  a  Union  man  in  the  Constitu 
tion,"  we  knew  for  a  certainty  that  his  Unionism  was 
conditional,  and  that  he  should  probably  be  classed 
with  the  secessionists. 

Let  us  notice  the  conditions  on  which  the  loyalty 
of  these  "but"  and  "if"  Unionists  was  based.  First, 
they  felt  themselves  to  be  under  no  obligation  to  sustain 
the  Union  unless  the  Federal  government  should  guar 
antee  to  them  their  rights.  They  meant  by  this,  their 
rights  in  slave  property.  The  people  of  the  Northern 
States  must  not  obstruct  by  legislation,  or  in  any 
other  way,  the  faithful  execution  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law;  in  fact  must  aid  the  Southern  slaveholder  in  re 
capturing  his  fleeing  property. 

In  the  second  place,  they  demanded  a  compromise 


52          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

by  which  slavery  south  of  36°  30'  should  be  protected 
in  the  territories.  In  demanding  no  more  than  this, 
many  of  them  thought  that  they  were  making  very 
generous  concessions  to  the  North,  since  they  believed 
that,  under  the  Constitution,  the  Southern  slaveholder 
had  the  undoubted  right  to  go  into  any  territory  of 
the  United  States  with  his  human  chattels,  and  there 
be  protected  in  both  person  and  slave  property. 

In  the  third  place,  they  announced  that  they  would  not 
sustain  the  Union,  if  the  general  government  should 
attempt  to  coerce  the  seceded  States.  They  declared 
that  they  would  neither  aid  their  seven  erring  sisters 
in  making  an  attack  on  the  Federal  government,  nor 
the  Federal  government  in  coercing  the  States  that  had 
left  the  Union.  This  view  was  urged  by  Mr.  Howell 
on  the  floor  of  the  Convention  in  a  resolution,  a  part 
of  which  was,  "We  earnestly  remonstrate  and  protest 
against  any  and  all  coercive  measures,  or  attempts  at 
coercion  of  said  States  into  submission  to  the  general 
government,  whether  clothed  with  the  name  or  pretext 
of  executing  the  laws  of  the  Union,  or  otherwise.  And 
we  declare  that  in  such  contingency  Missouri  will  not 
view  the  same  with  indifference."  This  resolution  in 
timated,  and  it  came  out  clearly  in  the  ensuing  debate, 
that  if  the  United  States  should  attempt  to  compel 
by  force  the  collection  of  the  national  customs  in  the 
South,  such  an  act  on  the  part  of  the  general  govern 
ment  would  be  regarded  as  coercion.  This  is  sufficient 
to  reveal  the  true  character  of  the  conditional  Unionists. 
They  affirmed  emphatically,  "  we  are  in  favor  of  keep 
ing  Missouri  in  the  Union,  if  the  Northern  States  will 
guarantee  the  execution  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law, 
protect  slavery  in  the  territories  south  of  36°  30',  and 
the  general  government  will  not  even  in  the  execution 


The  Boomerang  Convention  53 

of  the  Federal  laws  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line 
use  any  force  whatever;  but  if  these  conditions  are  not 
fulfilled,  we  are  in  favor  of  going  out  of  the  Union,  and 
uniting  our  fortunes  with  the  Southern  Confederacy;" 
and  when  the  Convention  adjourned  to  St.  Louis,  the 
Unionism  of  a  decided  majority  of  its  members  was 
unquestionably  of  that  conditional  type. 

Since  we  have  so  fully  set  forth  the  composition  and 
views  of  the  Convention,  it  will  be  unnecessary  to 
reproduce  in  detail  its  organization  and  proceedings. 
The  Hon.  Sterling  Price,  afterwards  a  Confederate 
general,  was  chosen  president,  and  presided  over  the 
deliberations  of  the  Convention  with  ability  and  im 
partiality.  The  delegates  to  the  Convention  took  an 
oath  to  sustain  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
and  that  of  the  State  of  Missouri.  A  strong  Committee  on 
Federal  Relations  was  appointed,  of  which  Hon.  Hamil 
ton  R.  Gamble,  an  unconditional  Union  man  of  whom 
we  have  already  spoken,  was  chairman.  During  the 
first  sittings  of  the  Convention,  numerous  resolutions  in 
reference  to  the  attitude  that  Missouri  ought  to  maintain 
toward  the  Union  were  introduced  and  referred  to  the 
Committee  on  Federal  Relations;  and  while  that 
committee  was  deliberating,  the  members  of  the  Con 
vention  occupied  the  time  in  making  speeches  on  the 
general  subject  of  secession.  As  each  one  seemed 
anxious  to  declare  himself,  there  was  much  speaking. 
Both  extreme  and  conservative  views  were  freely  aired, 
and  each  day  evidently  added  new  strength  to  the  position 
that  it  would  be  unwise  for  Missouri  to  sever  her  relations 
with  the  Union. 

There  was  one  unique  incident  that  profoundly  stirred 
the  whole  Convention.  The  Convention  of  the  State 
of  Georgia,  that  passed  an  ordinance  of  secession, 


54          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

sent  the  Hon.  Luther  J.  Glenn  as  a  commissioner  to 
present  it  to  the  Convention  of  Missouri  and  to  urge 
its  delegates  to  enact  a  similar  ordinance  and  to  join 
the  Southern  Confederacy.  He  appeared  at  Jefferson 
City,  during  the  proceedings  of  the  second  day  of  the 
Convention,  and  his  communication  from  Georgia  to 
the  Convention  was  read  by  the  Chair.1  This  com 
munication  was  promptly  laid  on  the  table,  but  the 
incident  greatly  disturbed  all  genuine  Union  men, 
especially  since  the  commissioner  with  his  secession 
message  had  been  received  with  open  arms  by  the 
Governor,  and  in  the  evening  both  houses  of  the  disloyal 
legislature  in  joint  session  had  listened  to  an  address 
from  him  with  the  most  manifest  marks  of  sympathy.2 
At  the  first  day's  session  in  St.  Louis  this  communica 
tion  of  the  Georgia  commissioner  was  called  up,  and  a 
motion  was  made  that  he  be  invited  to  address  the  Con 
vention.  Thereupon  there  was  hot  debate.  Hon. 
Sample  Orr,  referring  to  Mr.  Glenn,  said:  "  He  is  here 
to-day  and  called  an  ambassador  by  some,  by  others 
a  commissioner.  If  he  is  an  ambassador,  he  has  missed 
the  right  city.  He  should  have  gone  to  Washington. 
If  he  is  here  as  a  commissioner  from  a  sister  State, 
then  the  oath  we  have  taken  forbids  that  we  should 
have  an  alliance  with  any  other  State  in  the  Confeder 
acy."  He  meant  by  Confederacy,  the  United  States. 
Mr.  Smith,  a  delegate  from  St.  Louis,  said:  "  We  did  not 
come  here  to  receive  ambassadors  from  foreign  States." 
But  finally  the  Convention  deemed  it  best  on  the  whole 
to  listen  to  the  gentleman  from  Georgia,  who  then 
proceeded  to  tell  the  very  old  story  of  the  atrocious 
conduct  of  the  Northern  abolitionists,  and  of  the  equally 

1  Journal  of  the  Missouri  State  Convention,  1861,  p.  11. 

2  Snead,  pp.  68-72. 


The  Boomerang  Convention  55 

reprehensible  acts  of  the  Chicago  Convention,  that 
nominated  Abraham  Lincoln  for  the  Presidency;  of 
the  deplorable  condition  of  his  State,  on  account  of 
the  protective  tariff,  that  built  up  the  North  and  pulled 
down  the  South,  and  that,  on  account  of  these  things, 
which  a  long-suffering  people  could  no  longer  endure, 
his  State  had  peaceably  seceded,  and  he  was  commis 
sioned  by  Georgia  to  urge  Missouri  to  follow  her 
example.1 

Georgia's  Ordinance  of  Secession  and  the  address  of 
her  commissioner  were  referred  to  a  special  committee, 
of  which  the  Hon.  John  B.  Henderson,  the  author  of 
the  fourteenth  amendment  of  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States,2  was  chairman.  On  the  eighteenth 
day  of  the  sittings  of  the  Convention,  Mr.  Henderson, 
slaveholder  though  he  was,  presented  a  comprehensive 
report  recommending  the  rejection  of  the  prayer  from 
Georgia  to  secede,  presented  by  Mr.  Glenn,  and  urging 
the  weightiest  and  most  conclusive  reasons  against  the 
disruption  of  the  Union.  This  report  was  stronger 
meat  than  the  Convention  was  then  able  to  digest, 
so  after  a  short,  sharp  debate  it  was  laid  on  the  table  3 
and  was  never  afterwards  taken  up.  It  did  not  need  to 
be.  It  had  done  its  work.  The  author  of  it  had  seized 
his  opportunity  to  deal  a  staggering  blow  against  the 
secession  of  Missouri,  and  the  effect  of  it  could  not  be 
neutralized.  So  what  at  first  was  a  menace  was  trans 
muted  into  a  blessing. 

The  Georgia  commissioner  made  a  vow  that  he 
would  never  buy  a  new  hat  until  Missouri  seceded 
from  the  Union.  In  1900  he  was  still  living.  The 

Journal  Missouri  State  Convention,  1861,  pp.  13-20. 

2  Elaine's  Twenty  Years  of  Congress,  Vol.  I,  p.  505.     Vol.  II,  pp. 
202-203. 

3  Journal  Missouri  State  Convention,  1861,  pp.  248-256. 


56          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

silk  hat  that  covered  his  -  obfuscated  brain  when  he 
represented  seceded  Georgia  before  the  Convention 
in  St.  Louis  had  been  fixed  over  three  times.  He  was 
still  proud  of  it  and  of  the  cause  that  he  represented 
in  1861.  Whether  he  now  lives,  we  do  not  know.  He 
has  died,  or  will  die,  in  the  faith.  He  was  made  of  stern 
stuff.  If  he  has,  or  when  he  shall  have,  departed  to 
the  land  where  silk  hats  are  not  needed,  and  from  which 
no  one  ever  secedes,  every  one  who  admires  pure  grit 
will  heartily  breathe  the  prayer,  Requiescat  in  pace. 

We  return  now  from  this  peculiar  and  important 
transaction,  unexpectedly  thrust  upon  the  attention 
of  the  Convention  from  without,  to  notice  that,  by  the 
time  it  had  fairly  begun  its  work  in  St.  Louis,  the  seces 
sion  legislature  which  had  created  it,  repented  of  what 
it  had  unwittingly  wisely  done,  and  began  to  agitate 
the  question  whether  it  had  the  power  to  repeal  the 
ordinance  that  called  the  Convention  into  being,  and 
thus  permanently  dissolve  it.  They  saw  of  course  that 
the  Convention  was  not  of  their  way  of  thinking.  They 
refused  to  vote  the  necessary  means  for  the  publication 
of  its  proceedings.  Mr.  Foster  of  the  Convention  said 
in  debate,  "  Although  the  legislature  of  Missouri 
called  this  body  into  existence,  yet,  sir,  its  complexion 
so  very  materially  differs  from  the  complexion  of  the 
legislative  body,  that,  if  they  had  the  power,  in  my 
judgment,  they  would  crush  us  out  of  existence  to-day." 
To  the  Union  men  of  St.  Louis  and  the  State  this  grow 
ing  antagonism  of  the  two  law-making  bodies  was  a 
cheering  symptom.  The  legislature,  however,  soon 
learned  from  its  legal  advisers  that  it  could  not  efface 
the  wisdom  into  which  it  had  blindly  blundered;  that 
the  chicken  which  it  had  so  fondly  hatched  and  fostered 
into  maturity  could  not  be  put  back  into  the  shell  again ; 


The  Boomerang  Convention  57 

that,  in  short,  there  was  no  political  power  in  Missouri 
superior  to  the  sovereign  Convention  which  it  had 
evoked  into  being,  and  which  was  now  calmly  and  wisely 
deliberating  in  the  great  commercial  city  of  the  State. 

All  parties  were  finally  convinced  that  though  the 
legislature  had  created  the  Convention,  it  could  not 
destroy  it.  So  the  work  of  this  sovereign  body  moved 
on  undisturbed.  On  the  eighth  day  of  its  sittings  the 
Committee  on  Federal  Relations  reported  through  its 
chairman.  In  their  report  the  Committee,  with  but 
partial  success,  detailed  the  political  events  which  led 
to  the  secession  of  the  Cotton  States,  and  had  raised  the 
question  of  secession  in  the  remaining  slave  States.  But 
they  presented  with  cumulative  force  many  cogent  rea 
sons  why  Missouri  should  not  follow  her  erring  sisters 
in  seceding  from  the  Union,  and  finally  crystallized 
their  recommendations  on  the  whole  subject  of  secession 
in  seven  resolutions,  the  first  and  chief  of  which  was, 
"  That  at  present  there  is  no  adequate  cause  to  impel 
Missouri  to  dissolve  her  connection  with  the  Federal 
Union."  This  resolution  seems  to  us  now  tame  and 
timid.  But  a  more  sweeping  and  positive  resolution 
could  not  have  been  carried  through  the  Convention. 
Its  very  weakness  was  its  strength.  Its  apparent 
obeisance  to  the  doctrine  of  secession  made  it  acceptable 
to  many  conditional  Union  men.  When  the  loyal  men 
of  St.  Louis  heard  it,  they  were  lifted  up  with  hope. 

However  the  Committee  was  not  unanimous.  On 
the  next  day  some  conditional  Union  men  on  the  Com 
mittee  presented  a  minority  report.  Then  numerous 
amendments  were  offered,  and  for  eight  days  longer 
the  debate  went  on,  more  earnest  and  vigorous  than 
ever,  but  each  day  it  was  evident  that  the  more  positive 
secession  sentiment  was  slowly  vanishing,  so  that  when 


58          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

on  the  sixteenth  day  of  the  Convention,  the  vote  was 
taken  on  the  resolution  quoted  above,  while  nine  mem 
bers  of  the  Convention  were  absent,  all  present  but  one 
voted  for  it.  George  Y.  Bast,  a  farmer  from  Rhineland, 
Montgomery  County,  has  the  unenviable  distinction 
of  being  the  minority  of  one  that  voted  for  the  secession 
of  Missouri.  The  other  resolutions  of  the  Committee, 
with  varying  majorities,  were  also  adopted. 

On  the  22d  of  March  the  Convention  adjourned 
to  meet  on  the  third  Monday  in  December  following; 
but  it  also  appointed  a  committee  of  seven,  one  from 
each  congressional  district,  to  whom  the  power  was 
delegated  to  call  the  Convention  together  before  the 
third  Monday  in  December,  if,  in  their  judgment,  the 
public  exigencies  demanded  it. 

The  reasons  urged  by  the  Convention  against  the 
secession  of  Missouri  as  we  gather  them  from  its  reported 
proceedings,  briefly  stated,  were  these: 

First:  the  geographical  position  of  Missouri.  She 
was  so  far  north  that  her  climate  was  better  adapted 
to  the  white  man  than  to  the  black.  Moreover,  she  was 
shut  in  on  three  sides  by  free  States,  into  which,  if 
she  seceded  from  the  Union,  her  slaves  would  flee  and 
from  which  they  could  not  be  brought  back. 

Second:  she  had  other,  and  far  greater  interests 
than  her  slaves.  They  numbered  only  one  hundred  and 
twelve  thousand,  while  she  had  within  her  borders 
more  than  one  million,  one  hundred  thousand  white 
men.  During  the  then  preceding  decade  her  slaves 
had  increased  twenty-five  per  cent;  while  her  white 
population  had  increased  one  hundred  per  cent.  The 
taxable  value  of  her  slaves  was  only  forty-five  million 
dollars,  while  that  of  her  other  property  was  three  hun 
dred  and  fifteen  million  dollars.  Most  of  her  slaves  were 


The  Boomerang  Convention  59 

engaged  in  raising  tobacco  and  hemp,  while  her  white 
population,  which,  through  immigration,  was  rapidly 
increasing,  was  developing  her  mining,  manufacturing, 
and  commercial  interests.  The  members  of  her  sovereign 
Convention,  from  whose  brains  the  cobwebs  had  at  last 
been  swept,  and  whose  vision  had  become  clear,  saw 
that  the  immigration  of  free  white  men  to  Missouri 
would  nearly,  if  not  wholly,  cease,  if  the  State  by  seces 
sion  should  be  placed  under  the  political  domination  of 
the  Confederacy,  whose  cornerstone  had  been  declared 
by  its  brilliant  Vice-President  to  be  African  slavery. 

Third:  timid  men  were  everywhere  crying  out  for 
compromise.  And  most  of  the  members  of  the  Conven 
tion  still  hugged  the  delusion  that  the  political  antago 
nisms,  which  were  then  shaking  the  nation  to  its  founda 
tions,  and  had  already  severed  seven  States  from  the 
Union,  might  be  overcome  by  compromise.  To  inaugu 
rate  measures  by  which  such  compromise  might  be 
effected  some  advocated  a  convention  of  the  border  slave 
States;  others  of  the  border  slave  and  border  free  States; 
and  still  others  of  all  the  States,  and,  so  long  as  they 
cherished  hope  of  such  a  peaceful  adjustment  of  diffi 
culties,  they  thought  it  inexpedient  for  Missouri  to  secede. 

Fourth:  most  of  the  Convention  believed  that  the 
seven  States  which  had  already  seceded  had  been 
carried  out  of  the  Union  by  ambitious  politicians; 
that  the  people  had  not  been  permitted  fairly  and  fully 
to  discuss  the  question  of  secession,  and  freely  to  cast 
their  ballots  for  or  against  it.  During  the  deliberations 
of  the  Convention  extreme  Southern  politicians,  like 
Yancey  of  Alabama,  were  roundly  and  bitterly  de 
nounced.  Moreover,  the  State  pride  of  the  Missourians 
had  been  deeply  stung  by  the  seceded  States.  Those 
States,  they  affirmed,  had  rudely  snapped  the  tie  which 


60          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

bound  them  to  the  Union,  without  an}'  consultation  with 
the  border  slave  States,  and  then  after  they  were  out 
of  the  Union  and  had  gone  so  far  as  to  set  up  a  Southern 
Confederacy,  they  complacently  turned  around  and 
invited  the  States  whose  counsels  they  had  ignored  to 
join  them.  Missouri  felt  that  she  should  have  been 
consulted  before  secession  was  enacted,  and  some  strong 
pro-slavery  members  of  the  Convention  declared  in 
unmistakable  terms  that  they  were  utterly  opposed  to 
following  the  cotton  lords  of  the  South  Atlantic  and 
Gulf  States.  Thus  the  precipitancy  of  the  hot-headed 
Southern  politicians  became  no  inconsiderable  element 
of  the  force  which  kept  Missouri  in  the  Union. 

But  there  is  reason  for  grave  doubt  if  even  all  these 
considerations  combined  would  have  led  to  this  result, 
if  the  Convention  had  continued  its  deliberations  at 
Jefferson  City.  It  was  well  known  that  the  object 
of  the  Governor  and  the  legislature  in  creating  the 
Convention  was  to  secure  the  secession  of  the  State. 
Had  it  continued  its  sittings  at  the  State  capital,  the 
influences  by  which  it  would  have  been  surrounded 
would  probably  have  incited  its  members  to  enact  an 
ordinance  of  secession.  But  the  adjournment  to  St. 
Louis  at  once  awakened  a  reasonable  hope  of  a  better 
outcome.  The  delegates  were  now  surrounded  by  an 
entirely  different  atmosphere.  They  met  in  that  city 
the  highest  intelligence  and  the  staunchest  loyalty  in 
the  State.  They  were  mightily  impressed  with  the  fact 
that  scores  of  men  there  who  had  formerly  been  slave 
holders  in  the  South  were  unflinchingly  loyal  to  the 
old  flag.  Gradually  they  came  to  see  that  secession 
antagonized  all  the  commercial,  educational,  and  moral 
interests  of  the  State;  that  it  was,  in  short,  a  suicidal 
policy.  As  they  deliberated  day  by  day,  even  those 


The  Boomerang  Convention  61 

who  had  been  the  warmest  advocates  of  such  a  policy 
began  to  waver.  Every  day  their  vision  grew  clearer 
and  truer.  Even  the  president  of  the  Convention,  who 
so  soon  afterwards  became  a  commander  of  Confederate 
troops,  for  the  nonce,  seemed  to  be  a  genuine  Union 
man,  and  when  the  vote  was  taken  on  the  question  of 
secession,  as  we  have  already  noted,  only  one  man  could 
be  found  in  the  entire  Convention,  who  had  the  hardi 
hood  to  vote  against  the  resolution,  that  it  was  not  just 
then  expedient  for  Missouri  to  secede  from  the  Union. 

The  victory  was  won.  It  was  a  momentous  victory. 
Who  won  it?  A  little  band  of  intrepid  Union  men, 
men  of  whom,  with  perhaps  two  exceptions,  the  nation 
at  large  knew  little  or  nothing.  They  had  come  together 
in  St.  Louis  from  every  part  of  the  Republic  and  from 
foreign  countries.  That  city  was  their  adopted  home. 
They  had  largely  laid  aside  the  prejudices  that  they 
brought  with  them  from  their  former  places  of 
abode.  Their  contact  with  each  other  had  made  them 
larger,  grander  men.  Upon  them  unexpectedly  a  day 
of  darkness  had  fallen.  Dangers  thickened  around 
them,  but  the  very  perils  which  beset  them  united  their 
hearts  in  unswerving,  burning  loyalty  to  the  Union. 
At  last  the  only  hope  of  keeping  their  State  in  the  Union 
was  the  sovereign  Convention  called  into  being  for  the 
very  purpose  of  taking  it  out  of  the  Union.  So,  before 
God,  they  firmly  resolved  to  use  as  well  as  they  could 
the  unpropitious  instrument  made  ready  to  their  hand. 
They  could  not  directly  control  the  deliberations  and 
votes  of  the  Convention.  Forbidding  as  the  prospect 
seemed  to  be,  there  was  hope,  however,  if  this  sovereign 
body  could  be  induced  to  carry  on  its  deliberations 
in  their  adopted  city.  They  must  invite  the  Convention 
to  do  this.  Not  openly;  such  publicity  would  utterly 


62          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

defeat  their  purpose.  They  must  work  in  secret.  For 
tunately  some  of  their  own  number  were  members  of 
the  Convention.  They  were  good  men  and  wise  and 
true.  They  did  their  delicate  work  with  skill.  The 
Convention,  apparently  self-moved,  came  to  St.  Louis. 
It  deliberated  there.  Missouri  stayed  in  the  Union. 

What  was  the  significance  of  this  outcome  to  the 
nation  at  large?  It  had  a  mighty  influence  in  keeping 
Kentucky,  West  Virginia,  Delaware  and  Maryland  in 
the  Union.  It  cheered  and  strengthened  our  wise, 
conservative,  patriotic  President,  whose  manifold  per 
plexities  and  vast  responsibilities  pressed  upon  him 
like  the  superincumbent  weight  of  a  mountain.  It  put 
into  the  Union  army  more  than  one  hundred  and  nine 
thousand  men,  of  whom  more  than  eight  thousand  were 
colored,1  besides  the  Home  Guards  in  every  consider 
able  town  of  the  State.  It  is  probable,  however,  that 
part  of  this  number,  even  if  the  State  had  seceded, 
would  have  found  its  place  in  the  Union  ranks;  but  the 
doctrine  of  State  rights  was  so  dominant  that  probably 
at  least  seventy-five  thousand  of  that  number  would 
have  followed  the  State  and  helped  fight  the  battles 
of  the  Southern  Confederacy.  It  is  quite  possible  that 
this  great  military  force  added  to  the  Federal  army 
really  decided  the  conflict  in  favor  of  the  Union;  and 
that  when  some  future  historian  impartially  surveys 
the  whole  field,  he  may  be  constrained  to  affirm  that 
a  band  of  patriotic  men,  most  of  them  unknown  to 
fame,  in  a  border  city,  on  the  western  bank  of  the 
Mississippi  River,  confronted  with  apparently  insur 
mountable  obstacles,  by  prudent,  decisive  action,  not 
only  saved  their  State  from  the  madness  of  secession, 
but  the  whole  Union  from  irretrievable  disruption. 

1  The  State  of  Missouri  by  Williams,  pp.  545-546. 


Tilt     ARStNAL,     ST.     LOUIS,     IN 


[I'ayett 


CHAPTER   V 

THE  FIGHT  FOR  THE   ARSENAL 

THE  United  States  Arsenal  was  situated  in  the  south 
ern  part  of  the  city  by  the  river.  It  contained  nearly 
thirty  thousand  percussion-cap  muskets,  about  one 
thousand  rifles,  some  cannon  unfit  for  use,  a  few  hundred 
flint-lock  muskets,  and  a  large  quantity  of  ammunition.1 
It  was  the  settled  policy  of  the  seceding  States  to  seize 
the  United  States  arsenals  and  arms  within  their  bound 
aries.  So  those,  who  were  now  trying  to  force  Missouri 
out  of  the  Union,  were  intent  on  following  the  per 
nicious  example  of  the  seceded  States.  Moreover,  our 
secession  Governor  was  about  to  call  out  the  militia 
of  the  State  and  put  it  under  military  drill;  the  militia 
would  need  arms  and  ammunition;  both  were  in  the 
Arsenal;  why  should  not  these  citizen  soldiers  have 
them?  Why  should  the  sovereignty  of  the  United 
States  override  the  sovereignty  of  Missouri?  So  seces 
sionists  reasoned. 

And  the  fight  for  the  Arsenal  began  early.  Each 
party  saw  clearly  that  those  who  held  it  would  hold 
the  city,  and  those  who  held  the  city  would  hold 
the  State.  So  all  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  coveted 
prize.  Isaac  H.  Sturgeon,  a  Kentuckian  by  birth, 
was  Assistant  United  States  Treasurer  at  St.  Louis. 

1  Snead  in  "The  Fight  for  Missouri,"  p.  110,  says  there  were  in 
the  Arsenal  sixty  thousand  muskets.  For  this  I  find  no  authority. 


64          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

He  belonged  to  the  southern  right  wing  of  the  Mis 
souri  Democracy.  He  consorted  with  secessionists. 
He  heard  their  plans  for  seizing  the  Arsenal,  and  as 
the  Subtreasury  vaults  contained  four  hundred  thou 
sand  dollars  in  gold,  he  began  to  fear  that  they  might 
also  seize  that.  He  therefore  wrote  a  cautious  letter 
to  President  Buchanan,  setting  forth  the  facts  of  the 
case,  and  suggesting  that  it  might  be  wise  to  send  a 
company  of  soldiers  to  guard  the  money  belonging  to 
the  United  States.  The  President  turned  this  letter 
over  to  General  Scott,  who  forthwith  sent  Lieutenant 
Robinson  to  St.  Louis  with  a  detachment  of  forty  men 
and  ordered  that  they  be  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Assistant  Treasurer.  They  arrived  on  the  llth  of 
January,  and  were  quartered  in  the  Government  Build 
ing.  Here,  in  addition  to  the  Subtreasury,  were  the 
Post-office,  the  Custom-house  and  the  Federal  Courts. 
The  report  that  Federal  soldiers,  under  the  control  of 
the  Assistant  Treasurer,  were  on  guard  over  the  Sub- 
treasury,  flew  like  wild-fire  over  the  entire  city.  To 
put  it  mildly,  the  excitement  was  intense.  The  papers 
sent  out  extras,  that  were  carried  by  running,  yelling 
boys  to  almost  every  house.  A  great  angry,  vociferating 
crowd  packed  the  narrow  streets  on  which  the  Govern 
ment  Building  stood.  They  hurled  dire  threats  of 
vengeance  against  the  United  States,  the  President, 
the  general  of  the  army  and  Mr.  Sturgeon,  that  recreant 
States-rights  democrat.  Some  of  the  crowd  were  red, 
some  pale,  with  anger;  they  were  hot  for  a  fight.  But 
nobody  was  in  any  special  danger;  their  rage  would 
unquestionably  soon  have  spent  itself  in  angry  yells 
and  in  the  shaking  of  empty  fists;  but  in  order  to  calm 
the  secession  mind,  General  Harney,  the  department 
commander,  ordered  Robinson  and  his  detachment 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  65 

of  soldiers  to  the  Arsenal.  As  they  went  thither  the 
tempest  subsided,  and  no  bones  were  broken. 

But  brief  as  the  excitement  was,  it  invaded  the  capital 
of  the  State,  and  agitated  the  lawmakers  there.  A  grave 
and  reverend  State  Senator  forthwith  offered  some 
resolutions,  in  which  he  characterized  "  this  act  of 
the  administration  "  at  Washington  "  as  insulting  to  the 
dignity  and  patriotism  of  this  State,"  and  asked  the 
Governor  "  to  inquire  of  the  President  what  has  induced 
him  to  place  the  property  of  the  United  States  within 
this  State  in  charge  of  an  armed  Federal  force  ?  " 

Since,  however,  the  excitement  was  over  in  St.  Louis, 
these  resolutions  were  never  passed;  and  it  is  now 
difficult  for  us  to  believe  that  a  sane  legislator  should 
ever  have  felt  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  protest 
against  the  guarding  of  United  States  property  by  an 
armed  Federal  force.  But  so  good  men  thought  and 
felt  then. 

The  incident  at  the  Government  Building,  which 
aroused  such  passion  both  in  our  city  and  throughout 
the  State,  was  a  side-light  which  revealed  the  settled 
determination  of  the  secessionists  to  get  control  of 
all  United  States  property  on  the  sacred  soil  of 
Missouri.  Perhaps  the  fears  of  Mr.  Sturgeon  for  the 
safety  of  the  Subtreasury  —  fears  that  had  been 
awakened  by  the  declarations  of  the  secessionists  with 
whom  he  consorted  —  may  have  been  groundless,  but 
there  was  no  mistake  in  reference  to  the  determination 
of  the  disloyal  to  get  into  their  possession,  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  the  Arsenal  and  all  that  it  contained. 

To  understand  the  fight  for  the  Arsenal,  it  will  be 
necessary  for  us  to  get  before  our  minds  as  clearly  as 
possible  some  of  the  principal  characters  that  directed 
and  controlled  it.  The  first  to  claim  our  attention, 


66          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

though  at  the  beginning  of  the  contest  subordinate 
in  military  rank  is  Captain,  afterwards  Brigadier- 
General,  Nathaniel  Lyon.  He  was  a  native  of  Connecti 
cut,  and  a  graduate  of  West  Point.  He  had  served 
with  distinction  in  Florida,  and  in  the  Mexican  War, 
brilliantly  as  an  Indian  fighter  in  northern  California, 
and  with  moderation  and  wisdom  in  Kansas,  when  that 
territory  was  harassed  by  the  lawless  incursions  of 
border  ruffians.  He  was  forty-two  years  old,  just  in 
his  prime.  He  was  only  five  feet  seven  inches  in  height. 
He  was  thin  and  angular,  rough  and  rugged  in  appear 
ance.  He  had  deep-set,  clear  blue  eyes,  sandy  hair  and 
reddish-brown  stubby  beard.  What  he  was  in  mind  and 
heart,  unfolding  events  soon  clearly  revealed.  He 
reported  for  duty  at  the  Arsenal  about  February  2d. 
He  at  once  made  himself  familiar  with  its  history. 
He  learned  that  Major  William  H.  Bell,  by  birth  a  North 
Carolinian,  a  graduate  of  West  Point  in  1820,  had  been 
its  commander  for  several  years;  that  the  major,  aside 
from  his  duties  as  an  officer  of  the  United  States  army, 
had  amassed  quite  a  fortune  in  our  city  in  town  lots 
and  suburban  property,  and  had  come  to  regard  St. 
Louis  as  his  home;  that  his  sympathies  had  been  with 
the  extreme  pro-slavery  men  of  Missouri;  that  in  Janu 
ary  he  had  pledged  himself  to  General  Frost  that  while 
he  would  defend  the  Arsenal  against  all  mobs,  he  would 
not  defend  it  against  State  troops;  that  as  late  as  Jan. 
24th,  Frost  had  written  this  to  Governor  Jackson,  at 
the  same  time  claiming  that  Bell  was  in  accord  with 
them;  that  on  the  same  day,  to  the  honor  of  the  military 
service  of  the  United  States,  Bell  had  been  removed 
from  his  command  and  ordered  to  report  at  New  York; 
that  he  had  refused  to  obey  this  order,  and,  instead, 
had  had  the  good  sense  to  resign  his  commission 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  67 

and  retire  to  his  farm  in  St.  Charles  County, 
Missouri. 

So  at  the  start,  the  real  situation  of  affairs  in  our  city 
was  opened  up  to  Captain  Lyon. 

He  was  now  associated  in  military  duty  with  Brigadier- 
General  William  Selby  Harney  and  Major  Peter  V. 
Hagner.  The  former  was  the  commander  of  the  Depart 
ment  of  the  West.  He  was  more  than  sixty  years  old, 
having  been  born  in  1798.  He  was  a  Southerner; 
Louisiana  was  his  native  State.  He  had  had  large 
experience  as  a  soldier  in  the  Mexican  War,  and  as  an 
Indian  fighter  both  in  Florida  and  on  the  plains.  He 
had  acquitted  himself  with  distinction  as  the  com 
mander  of  the  military  Department  of  the  Pacific  Coast. 
For  several  years  he  had  lived  in  Missouri.  And  now 
in  this  time  of  stress  no  one  could  successfully  question  his 
patriotism,  and  unswerving  loyalty  to  the  Union; 
but  he  was  so  interlinked  with  Southern  families,  both 
by  blood  and  friendships  of  long  standing,  that  he 
was  unfitted  to  command  where  grave  and  delicate 
questions,  involving  old  neighbors  and  intimate  friends, 
were  constantly  arising.  So  at  last,  without  any  stain 
on  his  honor,  he  was  called  by  his  government  to  serve 
in  another  field. 

The  latter,  Major  Hagner,  was  the  successor  of  Major 
Bell  in  the  command  of  the  Arsenal.  Washington,  the 
national  capital,  was  his  birthplace.  He  too  was  a 
graduate  of  West  Point  and  was  older  than  Lyon. 
He  was  five  years  Lyon's  senior  in  service.  But  as  to 
whether  Hagner  really  outranked  Lyon  there  was  room 
for  difference  of  opinion.  Hagner  had  served  in  the 
ordnance  department  of  the  army,  where  promotions 
were  slower  than  in  the  infantry,  to  which  Lyon  belonged. 
Lyon's  commission  as  captain  in  the  regular  army 


68         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

was  twenty  days  earlier  than  Hagner's;  but  Hagner, 
having  received  in  1847  the  brevet  rank  of  major, 
claimed  to  outrank  him.  Under  this  Lyon  was  restive. 
He  saw  at  a  glance  what  must  be  done  if  Missouri  was 
to  be  kept  in  the  Union.  He  was  persuaded  that  Hagner 
was  unequal  to  the  demand  made  upon  him  by  the 
exigencies  of  the  hour.  So,  on  the  ground  of  the  priority 
of  his  commission  as  captain,  he  claimed  the  right 
to  supreme  command.  When  his  claim  was  denied, 
first,  by  Gen.  Harney,  and  then  by  President  Bu 
chanan  and  Gen.  Scott,  he  chafed  under  the  decision 
of  his  superiors.  He  did  not,  however,  sulk  in  his  tent; 
he  was  too  patriotic  for  that;  yet,  in  his  correspondence, 
he  vigorously  and  somewhat  ungraciously  criticized  those 
who  differed  from  him. 

While  his  superiors  in  command  at  St.  Louis  were 
both  men  of  undoubted  loyalty  to  their  government, 
they  did  not  have  the  same  point  of  view  that  he  had. 
He  was  originally  a  Connecticut  democrat.  In  1852 
he  had  enthusiastically  advocated  the  election  of 
Franklin  Pierce  to  the  Presidency.  But  he  was  sent  to 
do  military  duty  in  Kansas,  while  the  people  there  were 
struggling  in  opposition  to  pro-slavery  men  from  Missouri 
to  make  Kansas  a  free  State.  There  his  political  views 
were  almost  completely  changed.  The  full  tide  of  his 
sympathy  flowed  out  to  the  Free-State  men  and  to  the 
negro.  He  then  and  there  became  convinced  that  two 
civilizations  so  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other 
could  not  continue  to  exist  peacefully  under  the  same 
flag.  He  saw  the  coming  of  the  inevitable  conflict,  and 
he  was  ready,  not  to  say  eager,  for  it. 

While  Harney  was  not  in  sympathy  with  Lyon's 
political  views,  he  nevertheless  showed  that  he  admired 
him  both  as  an  officer  and  as  a  man;  but  between  Lyon 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  69 

and  Hagner  there  was  but  little  if  any  real  fellowship. 
Lyon  therefore  formed  his  friendly  associations  in  the 
city,  outside  the  Arsenal.  His  political  views  led  him 
into  the  company  of  such  men  as  Frank  P.  Blair,  our 
brilliant  congressman  and  aggressive  free-soil  leader; 
Oliver  D.  Filley,  our  popular  mayor,  a  New  Englander 
by  birth  and  education;  John  How,  a  Pennsylvanian, 
a  member  of  the  Union  Safety  Committee;  and  others 
of  the  same  ilk,  whose  trumpets  never  gave  an  uncertain 
sound  in  reference  to  the  maintenance  of  the  Union. 
These  uncompromising  loyalists  at  once  saw  in  Lyon 
the  man  for  the  hour  and  the  place,  and  he  saw  in  them 
men  who  would  do  all  in  their  power  to  help  him  realize 
his  aims.  He  frequently  visited  the  rendezvous  of  the 
Wide-A wakes,  now,  under  the  lead  of  Blair,  transformed 
into  Home  Guards.  He  encouraged  them  in  their  work, 
suggested  plans  for  their  more  perfect  organization,  and 
often  personally  drilled  them  in  the  manual  of  arms. 
They  needed  muskets.  Blair  thought  that  they  should 
be  armed  from  the  Arsenal;  and  while  this  was  contrary 
to  the  letter  of  the  law,  Lyon  was  in  full  accord  with 
Blair. 

In  view  of  threatened  attacks  on  the  Arsenal,  Lyon 
urged  Hagner  to  fortify  it.  He  refused.  He  then 
urged  him  to  arm  the  Home  Guards;  this  he  regarded 
as  illegal,  and  from  his  point  of  view  justly  decided 
against  it.  Not  that  Lyon  was  lawless,  but  his  reasoning 
was,  a  law  that  was  made  to  preserve  the  Republic 
must  not  be  obeyed  when  such  obedience  would  destroy 
the  Republic.  In  such  a  case  obedience  to  the  letter 
of  the  law  would  be  disobedience  to  its  spirit.  He  held 
that  the  commandant  at  the  Arsenal  was  bound  to 
defend  it  at  all  hazards,  and  by  all  means  within  his 
reach,  since  on  the  holding  of  it  depended  the  political 


70          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

destiny  of  Missouri.  Nothing  must  stand  in  the  way  of 
securing  an  end  so  transcendently  important.  Laws 
good  and  wholesome  in  the  "  weak  piping  time  of 
peace/'  for  the  highest  public  good  may  be  held  in 
abeyance  in  a  time  of  revolt  against  constituted  author 
ity.  But  this  captain,  all  aflame  with  patriotism,  and 
so  impatient  of  restraint,  must  still  wait  a  little 
longer  before  unhindered  he  can  do  his  appointed 
work. 

The  first  of  February,  Blair  went  to  Washington  and 
in  person  urged  President  Buchanan  to  give  Lyon  the 
supreme  command  of  the  Arsenal;  but  neither  he  nor 
General  Scott  would  consent  to  this,  having  full  confi 
dence  in  Harney  and  Hagner.  But  a  serious  disturbance 
around  the  headquarters  of  the  Minute  Men,  or  organized 
secessionists,  which  threatened  the  peace  of  the  whole 
city,  led  Harney,  on  March  13th,  to  give  the  command 
of  the  troops  at  the  Arsenal  to  Lyon,  while  Hagner 
was  still  permitted  to  retain  his  command  over  the 
ordnance  stores.  Nothing  could  have  been  more 
impractical  and  absurd.  The  Arsenal  now  had  two 
heads;  one  over  the  troops,  the  other  over  the  arms. 
If  the  two  had  been  in  perfect  accord,  the  double- 
headed  arrangement  might  have  worked  efficiently; 
but  in  all  their  thinking  and  methods  they  were  at  sword's 
points  with  each  other.  But  strange  to  say,  out  of  this 
apparent  deadlock  of  authority  came  deliverance. 

This  anomalous  state  of  affairs,  seemingly  so  favorable 
to  the  secessionists,  together  with  a  legislative  act 
expressly  in  their  interest,  resulted  in  their  discom 
fiture.  In  March,  the  secession  lawmakers  at  Jefferson 
City,  disappointed  and  incensed  because  the  Convention 
at  St.  Louis  had  voted  that,  for  the  present,  at  least, 
it  was  inexpedient  for  the  State  to  secede  from  the 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  71 

Union,  determined  if  possible  to  neutralize,  or  to  over 
turn,  this  reasonable  and  wise  decision.  They  saw 
clearly  that  if  in  any  way  they  could  get  control  of  St. 
Louis,  they  could  through  it,  in  spite  of  the  Convention, 
control  the  State.  They  thought  that  if  the  police  of 
the  city  could  by  some  device  be  put  under  the  juris 
diction  of  their  secession  Governor,  there  would  be  a 
rational  and  strong  hope  of  uniting  the  destiny  of  St. 
Louis  and  Missouri  with  that  of  the  Southern  Con 
federacy.  Swayed  by  this  thought,  and  intensely 
anxious  to  realize  it,  they  framed  and  passed  an  act, 
authorizing  the  Governor  to  appoint  four  commissioners, 
who,  together  with  the  mayor,  should  have  absolute 
control  of  the  police,  of  the  local  voluntary  militia, 
of  the  sheriff,  and  of  all  other  conservators  of  the  peace. 
This  act  virtually  threw  the  whole  police  force  of  the 
city  into  the  hands  of  the  Governor,  and  seemed  also 
to  put  under  his  absolute  control  not  only  the  ordinary 
local  volunteer  militia,  but  also  the  Minute  Men,  and 
Wide-Awakes  or  Home  Guards  of  St.  Louis.  On  the 
heel  of  this  sweeping  and  radical  legislation  came  the 
municipal  election  of  April  1st,  when  Daniel  G.  Taylor, 
a  plastic,  conditional  Union  man,  openly  opposed  to 
Lincoln's  administration  and  to  the  coercion  of  the 
South,  was  elected  mayor  by  a  majority  of  two  thousand 
six  hundred  and  fifty-eight  over  John  How,  a  very 
popular,  unconditional  Union  man.  In  the  preceding 
February,  when  the  city  chose  delegates  to  the  Conven 
tion,  the  unconditional  Union  men  had  triumphed  by  a 
majority  of  full  five  thousand;  but  now  we  had  elected 
a  mayor  who  would  play  into  the  hands  of  our  disloyal 
Governor.  The  cause  of  this  backset  it  was  difficult 
to  discover;  and  the  alarming  thing  about  it  all  was  that 
with  a  pliant  mayor  under  the  thumb  of  our  foxy 


72          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Governor  we  seemed  to  be  in  the  tightening  grip  of  the 
secessionists. 

The  Governor,  under  the  recent  enactment  of  the 
legislature,  now  appointed  the  police  commissioners. 
In  doing  this  he  carried  into  effect  this  new  and  per 
nicious  statute  both  in  its  letter  and  spirit.  He  had 
probably  originally  suggested  it.  At  all  events  it  was 
evidently  a  legislative  act  after  his  own  heart.  Under 
it  he  named  as  commissioners  three  of  the  most  out 
spoken,  virulent  secessionists  in  the  city,  and  a  man 
of  Northern  birth,  who  was  strongly  opposed  to  any 
attempt  to  coerce  seceded  States.  At  the  head  of  this 
interesting  quartette  stood  Basil  Wilson  Duke,  the 
acknowledged  leader  of  the  Minute  Men,  the  organized 
secessionists  of  St.  Louis.  This  man  inspired  those 
who  hung  out  a  rebel  flag  over  their  rendezvous  on  Pine 
Street,  and  defied  the  Union  men  of  the  city.  He  was 
a  man  of  ability  and  conviction.  He  fought  for  what 
he  believed  to  be  right.  Like  the  Governor  that  ap 
pointed  him,  he  regarded  the  coming  of  United  States 
troops,  even  for  the  purpose  of  defending  United 
States  property,  as  an  invasion  of  the  State  that  should 
be  met  and  repelled  by  force. 

But  out  of  apparent  defeat  came  victory;  out  of  the 
gloom  light  streamed.  Lyon  at  the  Arsenal  was  un 
daunted.  While  he  chafed  under  his  limitations,  he 
used  energetically  all  the  power  that  he  had.  Rightly 
regarding  the  holding  of  the  Arsenal  as  of  paramount 
importance,  he  declared,  perhaps  unwisely,  that  if  the 
secessionists  attempted  to  seize  it,  he  would  issue  arms 
to  the  Home  Guards  and  other  Union  men,  and  if 
Hagner  interfered  he  would  " pitch  him  into  the  river." 
Harney,  at  last  convinced  that  right  there  in  St.  Louis 
war  was  imminent,  enlarged  the  powers  of  Lyon  so  that 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  73 

for  the  time  being  he  had  supreme  command  over  the 
arms  at  the  Arsenal  as  well  as  over  the  soldiers. 

Lyon  now,  as  a  precautionary  measure,  patrolled 
the  streets  beyond  the  Arsenal,  and  planted  his  artillery 
on  the  bluffs  above  it.  Against  this  the  police  com 
missioners  protested,  but  Lyon  would  not  budge.  So 
they  appealed  to  Ilarney.  For  the  sake  of  peace  he 
ordered  the  patrols  back  into  the  limits  of  the  Arsenal, 
and  forbade  Lyon  to  issue  arms  to  any  one  without  his 
consent.  This  reactionary  and  disheartening  movement 
on  the  part  of  Harney  soon  made  Lyon  the  master  of 
the  situation.  Blair  appealed  for  relief  to  the  Secretary 
of  War,  who  at  once  summoned  Harney  to  Washington. 
In  obeying  this  summons  on  the  23d  of  April,  he 
temporarily  retired  from  his  command. 

Lyon  had  now  what  he  and  Blair  had  so  intensely 
desired,  supreme  command  at  the  Arsenal.  He  at  once 
re-enforced  it.  He  fortified  it.  All  approaches  to  it 
were  vigilantly  guarded.  Lyon  was  now  empowered 
by  the  Federal  government  to  arm  the  Home  Guards; 
to  raise  and  arm  additional  regiments  and  muster  them 
into  the  United  States'  service.  So  the  battle  within 
the  Arsenal  for  the  Arsenal  was  at  last  won.  But  what 
of  the  battle  for  it  without? 

Taken  as  a  whole,  the  city  at  this  time  was  tossed 
and  torn  with  doubt  and  fear.  That  there  was 
a  mighty  struggle  on  the  part  of  the  disloyal,  in 
some  way  to  get  possession  of  the  Arsenal,  we  all 
knew.  How  many  of  them  there  were,  and  what 
were  their  resources,  we  could  not  with  any  certainty 
ascertain.  Our  imaginations  were  often  active.  When 
we  retired  at  night  we  thought  it  at  least  possible  that, 
by  some  strategic  stroke,  we  might  wake  up  in  the  morn 
ing  and  find  our  city  turned  over  into  the  hands  of  the 


74          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

secessionists.  The  very  indefiniteness  of  the  force 
which  threatened  us  made  our  situation  peculiarly 
weird,  and  filled  us  at  times  with  apprehension.  This 
hostile  force  was  as  vague  and  indeterminate  as  the 
shadowy  power  that  passed  before  Eliphaz,  concerning 
which  he  said  (Job  4 :  12) : 

"  Now  a  thing  was  secretly  brought  to  me,  and  mine  ear  received 

a  whisper  thereof. 
In  thoughts  from  the  visions  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  f alleth 

on  men, 
Fear  came  upon  me,  and  trembling,  which  made  all  my  bones  to 

shake. 
Then  a  spirit   passed   before   my  face  ;    the  hair  of   my  flesh 

stood  up  : 
It  stood  still,  but  I  could  not  discern  the  form  thereof." 

Not  that  we  feared  for  our  personal  safety.  But 
we  were  often  anxious  lest  the  city,  by  some  secret 
move,  should  be  swept  into  the  maelstrom  of  secession. 
True  men  could  not  help  being  anxious.  Ugly  rumors 
filled  the  air.  The  Post-office,  the  Custom-house,  the 
Subtreasury,  the  Arsenal  were  all  about  to  be  seized. 
At  last,  on  April  12th,  the  whole  nation,  North  and  South, 
burst  into  flame.  Beauregard  was  bombarding  Fort 
Sumter.  Hostilities  had  not  been  formally  declared. 
Without  any  preannouncement,  the  dread  conflagration 
of  war  began  to  sweep  over  the  land.  But  after  all,  this 
was  but  fanning  into  fiercer  flame  the  fire  that  was 
already  burning.  For  several  months  the  seceding 
States  had  been  committing  acts  of  war  in  seizing 
the  property  of  the  United  States.  From  the  strong 
desire  of  averting  armed  conflict,  such  acts  had  been 
overlooked  by  the  Federal  authorities.  The  nation  had 
been  hoping  for  a  peaceful  solution  of  its  difficulties. 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  75 

But  now  the  belching  cannon  at  Charleston,  the  very 
nest  of  secession,  had  swept  away  the  last  hope  of  peace. 
Every  ear  in  St.  Louis  was  attent.  The  shameful 
end  came  all  too  soon.  The  Old  Flag,  around  which 
clustered  so  many  glories,  was  lowered  before  a  disunion 
army.  On  the  14th  of  April  those  brave  troops  that 
had  so  gallantly  defended  the  fort  marched  out  with  the 
honors  of  war.  There  was  now  no  longer  any  hesitation 
at  the  White  House.  The  President's  call  for  seventy-five 
thousand  men  to  put  down  the  rebellion  rang  out 
trumpet-tongued  all  over  the  Republic.  The  lines  that 
had  separated  political  parties  faded  away.  Persons 
of  all  shades  of  political  opinion  rallied  as  one  man  to 
save  the  Union. 

To  depict  the  effect  in  St.  Louis  of  the  capture  of  Fort 
Sumter  and  the  President's  call  for  volunteer  troops 
would  require  an  abler  pen  than  mine.  At  first  the 
Union  men  were  silent,  but  their  thoughts  were  hot 
within  them.  The  fall  of  Sumter  stirred  them  to 
indignation;  the  call  of  the  President  inflamed  their 
patriotism  and  strengthened  their  hope.  Most  of  their 
secession  neighbors  for  a  time  were  also  silent.  They 
too  were  agitated  by  conflicting  emotions.  While  the 
lowering  of  the  Old  Flag  at  the  behest  of  Beauregard's 
thundering  guns  lighted  up  their  faces  with  smiles, 
they  hotly  protested  against  Lincoln's  call  for  troops 
as  an  invasion  of  State  rights.  But  these  national 
events  that  had  so  suddenly  come  upon  us,  producing  in 
the  minds  of  our  fellow-citizens  such  varied  and  antago 
nistic  effects,  greatly  intensified  the  determination  of 
both  Unionists  and  secessionists.  Each  party  now 
began  to  struggle  as  never  before  to  gain  its  end.  And 
the  immediate  purpose  of  the  one  was  to  seize,  and  of 
the  other  to  hold,  the  Arsenal. 


76          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Men  of  the  same  race,  the  same  nation,  the  same  State, 
the  same  city,  hot  with  passion,  stood  face  to  face. 
One  party  declared:  "  Come  what  may,  we  will  take  the 
Arsenal."  The  other  responded:  "  At  all  hazards  we 
will  defend  and  retain  it."  But  those  who  determined 
to  get  possession  of  it  did  not  yet  understand  the  ability 
and  resourcefulness  of  the  officer  who  at  last  had  secured 
supreme  command  over  it.  He  was  cool  and  clear 
headed.  He  saw  intuitively  the  manifold  dangers  by 
which  he  and  his  command  were  beset.  He  penetrated 
the  designs  of  our  acute  and  wily  Governor.  He  un 
earthed  his  correspondence  with  the  Confederate  author 
ities  at  Montgomery.  He  also  discovered  what  was  going 
on  in  the  rebel  rendezvous  of  the  city.  He  unerringly 
detected  and  unravelled  the  plots  of  the  disloyal.  Just 
how  he  did  these  things,  no  one  knew.  But  his  appre 
hension  of  what  his  enemy  was  doing  was  but  the  means 
to  the  end.  When  he  made  a  discovery  he  knew  just 
what  to  do.  And  in  executing  his  plans  he  was  resolute 
and  decisive.  In  him,  purpose  and  deed  were  yoked 
together,  thought  was  crowned  with  act.  He  was 
admired  and  trusted  by  the  loyal,  but  distrusted, 
feared  and  hated  by  the  disloyal. 

Even  while  he  was  in  subordinate  command,  as  early 
as  April  16th,  with  perhaps  unjustifiable  officiousness, 
he  had  written  to  Governor  Yates  of  Illinois,  that  it 
might  be  well  for  him  "  to  make  requisition  for  a  large 
supply  of  arms,  and  get  them  shipped  from  the  Arsenal 
to  Springfield."  l  Governor  Yates,  acting  on  his  sug 
gestion,  made  the  requisition.  But  the  execution  of  the 
enterprise  was  difficult  and  dangerous.  Secession  spies 
swarmed  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Arsenal.  Every 
thing  done  there  was  promptly  reported  to  the  disloyal 

1 W.  B.  S.  1,  Vol.  I,  p.  667  ;  also  W,  R,  S,  3,  Vol.  I,  p.  80. 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  77 

of  the  city  in  their  various  places  of  meeting.  These 
segregated  secessionists  grew  more  and  more  deter 
mined,  come  what  might,  to  make  the  coveted  Arsenal 
their  own.  A  rumor  also  got  afloat  that  the  Governor 
had  ordered  two  thousand  of  his  militia  down  from 
Jefferson  City  to  assist  the  secessionists  in  seizing  it, 
and  that  he  had  determined  to  plant  cannon  on  the 
heights  above  it  and  bombard  it.  And  even  if  the  rumor 
were  merely  a  creation  of  the  imagination,  it  was  none 
the  less  effective  on  that  account.  It  now  became  doubly 
clear  that  if  the  munitions  of  war  at  the  Arsenal  were  to 
be  delivered  from  constant  liability  of  seizure,  no  time 
should  be  lost  in  removing  them  to  Springfield,  Illinois. 
In  this  Captain  Lyon  and  Governor  Yates  were  agreed. 
To  make  sure  the  safe  delivery  of  them  at  Springfield, 
Governor  Yates  summoned  to  his  aid  Captain  James  H. 
Stokes,  late  of  the  regular  army.  He  chose  the  right 
man  for  this  delicate  and  hazardous  undertaking. 
Under  the  direction  of  the  United  States  authorities,  he 
commissioned  him  to  remove  ten  thousand  muskets 
from  the  Arsenal  in  St.  Louis  to  the  capital  of  Illinois. 
To  accomplish  this  work  Captain  Stokes  chartered  the 
steamer  "City  of  Alton."  She  was,  however,  to  remain 
at  Alton  until  called  for. 

In  the  meantime,  Stokes,  in  citizen's  dress,  came 
quietly  and  unobserved  to  St.  Louis.  When  he  went 
to  the  Arsenal,  he  found  it  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  sullen,  resolute  secessionists.  At  first  he  was  unable 
even  to  work  his  way  through  the  compact  throng; 
but  by  patience  and  good  nature  he  finally  elbowed 
his  way  to  the  coveted  fortress  and  handed  to  Captain 
Lyon  the  requisition  from  Governor  Yates.  At  first 
Lyon  doubted  if  it  were  possible  at  that  time  to  meet 
it,  but  promptly  decided  that,  if  it  could  be  met  at  all, 


78          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

there  must  be  no  delay  in  action.  Both  Lyon  and  Stokes 
were  resourceful.  The  latter  sent  a  spy  into  the  secession 
camp.  He  met  him  at  a  designated  time  and  place, 
and  through  him  learned  every  move  that  the  seces 
sionists  proposed  to  make.  On  the  25th  of  April, 
a  little  more  than  twenty-four  hours  after  his  arrival, 
he  telegraphed  the  "City  of  Alton"  to  drop  down 
to  the  Arsenal  landing  about  midnight.  He  then  re 
turned  to  the  Arsenal  and,  with  the  help  of  the  soldiers 
there,  began  moving  the  boxes  of  muskets  from  the 
upper  to  the  lower  floor.  When  this  work  had  been 
done,  he  sent  some  boxes  of  old  flint-lock  muskets  up 
the  bank  of  the  river,  as  if  he  intended  to  ship  them 
by  some  steamboat  lying  at  the  levee;  but  it  was  merely 
a  blind  to  divert  attention  from  his  real  enterprise. 
The  secessionists  eagerly  followed  and  seized  these 
almost  worthless  guns;  thinking  that  they  had  secured 
a  rich  prize,  they  made  night  hideous  by  their  boisterous 
rejoicing.  A  few  of  them,  however,  still  hung  round  the 
Arsenal.  These  Captain  Lyon  arrested  and  locked  up. 
Between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock  the  "City  of 
Alton"  tied  up  at  the  landing.  The  seven  hundred 
men  in  the  Arsenal  quickly  put  aboard  of  her  the  ten 
thousand  muskets  demanded.  Captain  Stokes  then 
urgently  asked  permission  to  empty  the  Arsenal  of  all 
guns  except  those  that  were  immediately  needed  to  arm 
the  volunteers  that  Lyon  was  gathering  around  him. 
He  was  told  to  go  ahead.  With  marvellous  celerity, 
he  then  put  aboard  the  steamer  ten  thousand  more 
muskets,  five  hundred  new  rifle  carbines,  five  hundred 
revolvers,  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  musket 
cartridges,  and  a  considerable  quantity  of  miscellaneous 
war  material.  Seven  thousand  muskets  were  left  to  arm 
the  St.  Louis  volunteers. 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  79 

When  in  hot  haste  the  steamer  had  been  loaded,  the 
word  was  given  to  push  off  from  the  landing;  but  she 
could  not  be  moved.     The  boxes  of  muskets  had  been 
piled  up  around  the  engine-room  to  guard  it  against  any 
shot  that  might  be  sent  from  the  battery  planted  by 
our  plausible  Governor  for  the  defence  of  the  State  on 
the  levee  above,  and  their  weight  had  pressed  the  prow 
of  the  steamer  down  into  the  clay  of  the  river-bank,  and 
she  stuck  fast.    Such  a  moment  would  have  paralyzed 
many  men;    but  the  undaunted  Stokes  was  cool  and 
equal  to  the  occasion.    He  cried  to  his  energetic  helpers, 
"  Move  the  boxes  aft."    With  right  good  will  the  order 
was  obeyed.     Two   hundred   boxes   of  muskets  were 
quickly  carried  astern,  when  the  steamer's  prow  was 
lifted  free  from  the  clay  and  she  floated  out  upon  deep 
water.      "  Which  way?  "  said  the  captain  of  the  "City 
of  Alton."     Stokes  replied,  "Out  to  the  channel  of  the 
river,   then  north  to  Alton."     "  But,"   said   Captain 
Mitchell  of  the  steamer,   "what  if  the  battery  on  the 
levee  fires  upon  us?"      "We  will  defend  ourselves," 
said  Stokes.    "  What  if  they  beat  us?  "  asked  Mitchell. 
"  Push  her  to  the  middle  of  the  river  and  sink  her," 
replied  Stokes.      "I'll  do  it,"  said  Mitchell.     On  he 
steamed.    He  came  abreast  the  battery;   he  passed  it. 
Cannoneers  and  cannon  seemed  to  be  asleep.      There 
was  no  sound  from  human  or  brazen  throat.     Plash, 
plash  went  the  steamer's  wheels;   on,  on  she  ploughed 
through  the  murky  waters,  and  at  five  in  the  morning 
reached  her  destination. 

As  soon  as  she  touched  the  landing  at  Alton,  Captain 
Stokes  ran  to  the  market-house  and  rang  the  fire-bell. 
The  inhabitants  roused  from  their  morning  slumbers, 
came  pouring  out  of  their  houses,  some  of  them 
half-dressed,  to  fight  fire  as  soon  as  they  found  it. 


80          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

The  Captain  told  them,  " There  is  no  fire;  but  at  the 
landing  is  that  steamer  which  you  all  know;  it  is  now 
loaded  with  arms  and  ammunition  from  the  Arsenal 
at  St.  Louis;  to  get  them  we  outwitted  and  of  course 
disappointed  the  secessionists;  they  may  pursue  us; 
so  we  wish  as  speedily  as  possible  to  get  these  guns  to 
the  capital  of  your  State.  Will  you  help  us  carry  them 
from  the  'City  of  Alton'  to  these  empty  freight- 
cars?  "  With  a  shout  that  rolled  across  the  Father 
of  Waters  to  the  opposite  shore,  men,  women,  and 
children  laid  hold  of  this  hard  task.  They  tugged  at 
the  heavy  boxes  of  muskets,  carrying,  dragging,  wheeling 
them.  Their  enthusiasm  rose  every  moment  to  a  higher 
pitch;  and  just  as  the  clock  struck  seven  the  work  was 
done.  The  cargo  of  the  steamer  was  on  the  cars.  The 
doors  were  shut  and  padlocked.  The  locomotive 
whistled,  the  bell  rang,  the  steam  puffed,  the  wheels 
moved,  on  went  the  ponderous  train  with  its  coveted 
load  amid  the  shouts  and  huzzas  of  the  patriotic  Alton- 
ians.1  Nor  did  they  forget  that  morning  their  own 
martyred  Lovejoy,  who,  fighting  against  slavery  and 
for  the  freedom  of  the  press,  poured  out  his  blood  on  the 
same  spot  where  they  then  stood;  and  that  his  blood 
so  ruthlessly  spilled  foretokened  the  awful  conflict  into 
which  the  whole  nation  was  then  rapidly  drifting. 

When  the  morning  of  April  26th  dawned,  to  say 
that  the  secessionists  of  St.  Louis  were  unhappy  would 
be  an  inadequate  expression  of  their  mental  state. 
They  then  discovered  that  they  had  immoderately 
exulted  over  a  few  worthless,  flint-lock  muskets;  and 
that  while  they  had  shouted,  most  of  the  arms  for  which 
they  had  been  scheming,  had,  in  the  darkness,  slipped 
forever  beyond  their  reach.  When  they  fully  appre- 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  D.  of  E.,  Vol.  I,  p.  44.  Also  Doc.,  p.  147-8. 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  81 

hended  that  they  had  been  artfully  outwitted,  their 
mortification  was  unbounded.  Covered  with  shame, 
they  crept  into  their  holes.  That  night's  work  by  Lyon 
and  Stokes  was  decisive  and  pivotal.  On  it  the  political 
destiny  of  St.  Louis  seemed  to  turn.  Every  day  there 
after  both  the  Arsenal  and  city  grew  more  and  more 
secure,  and  volunteers  to  defend  the  city  gathered  in 
ever  increasing  numbers. 

The  foundation  for  this  volunteer  movement  had  been 
laid  weeks  before.  In  February,  or  early  in  March, 
many  of  our  most  influential  loyal  citizens  petitioned 
the  Minute  Men  or  secessionists  to  lay  down  their 
arms,  to  quit  their  rendezvous,  and  to  dissolve  all  their 
military  organizations,  promising  if  they  would  do 
this,  that  the  Wide-Awakes  or  Union  men  would  do  the 
same.  This  very  earnest  petition  was  for  the  purpose  of 
maintaining  peace  within  the  city;  but  the  secessionists 
rejected  it  with  scorn.  So  some  days  later  a  regiment 
of  Wide-Awakes  appeared  on  the  streets,  bearing  on 
their  shoulders  bright,  burnished  muskets.  These  were 
the  guns  of  which  we  have  before  spoken,  that  were 
sent  as  plaster  casts  to  our  Art  Exhibition.  Most  of 
this  regiment  were  ready,  when  the  call  came,  to  enter 
the  volunteer  service  of  the  United  States.  Many 
Germans  of  the  city  eagerly  volunteered.  Soon  Cap 
tain  Lyon  had  over  three  thousand  men  from  St. 
Louis,  all  well  armed  and  under  drill.  The  number 
continued  to  swell  till  all  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the 
Arsenal  at  last  died  away. 

Now,  however,  a  strange  phenomenon  arrested  our 
attention.  Many  of  those  who  were  bent  on  forcing 
Missouri  out  of  the  Union,  for  the  time  being  relaxed 
all  effort.  They  seemed  to  have  given  up  the  contest. 
What  led  them  thus  to  lay  aside  their  open  belligerency? 


82          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

We  were  able  soon  to  solve  this  mystery.  It  had  been 
often  and  confidently  asserted  that  the  Federal  govern 
ment  was  to  send,  from  the  adjoining  free  States,  several 
thousand  men  to  defend  the  Arsenal  and  other  property 
of  the  United  States.  A  little  later  some  regiments 
from  Illinois  came.  This  wrought  up  the  secessionists 
to  fever  heat.  To  their  minds  the  introduction  of  troops 
from  other  States  was  an  outrageous  invasion  of  State 
sovereignty. 

Moreover  there  had  been  for  several  weeks  a  persistent 
effort  to  misrepresent  the  attitude  of  the  general  gov 
ernment.  While  it  was  simply  endeavoring  to  defend 
its  property  and  domain,  it  had  been  dinned  into  the 
ears  of  the  secessionists,  in  the  most  emphatic  terms, 
that  the  object  of  the  United  States  was  invasion 
and  subjugation;  and  as  true  men  they  must  arise 
and  defend  their  hearths  and  homes,  wives  and 
children  against  Lincoln's  minions.  So  our  fellow- 
citizens,  who  had  been  devising  every  possible  scheme 
to  secure  the  secession  of  Missouri,  thought  it  quite 
unnecessary  for  them  to  put  forth  any  further  effort 
to  attain  their  object,  since  the  incoming  of  soldiers 
from  other  States  would  produce  such  a  revulsion  of 
feeling  against  the  Federal  government,  that  the  people 
without  any  further  incentive  would  speedily  determine 
to  secede.  They  began  to  talk  confidently  of  setting 
aside  the  decree  of  the  Convention.  But  without 
proposing  any  further  effort,  they  were  quietly  awaiting 
the  natural  drift  of  events.  They  believed  that  by  the 
force  of  circumstances  the  State  would  be  carried  out 
of  the  Union  and  into  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

Their  confident  expectation  was  not  altogether 
baseless.  Clear-headed  Union  men  saw  the  danger  of 
introducing  troops  at  that  time  from  other  States  into 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  83 

our  city.  The  authorities  at  Washington  were  induced 
to  take  this  view  of  the  case  into  serious  consideration. 
The  result  was  that  for  the  time  being  they  wisely 
changed  their  policy.  Some  regiments  that  had  been 
ordered  from  Illinois  to  St.  Louis  were  sent  elsewhere. 
Moreover,  the  President,  carefully  humoring  the  preju 
dices  of  those  who  tenaciously  held  the  doctrine  of  State 
sovereignty,  on  April  30th,  ordered  Captain  Lyon  "  to 
enroll  in  the  military  service  of  the  United  States  the 
loyal  citizens  of  St.  Louis  and  vicinity,  not  exceeding, 
with  those  heretofore  enlisted,  ten  thousand  in  number, 
for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  authority  of  the 
United  States,  and  for  the  protection  of  the  peaceable 
inhabitants  of  Missouri."  So  the  State-rights  men 
were  beaten  at  their  own  game  and  on  their  own  ground. 
In  his  order  the  President  seemed  carefully  to  respect 
the  doctrine  of  State  sovereignty.  Only  Missourians, 
and  they  from  "  St.  Louis  and  vicinity,"  were  to  defend 
the  Arsenal  and  city.  Could  anything  have  been  more 
fitting  and  beautiful?  But  the  secessionists  were  alto 
gether  unwilling  to  take  their  own  medicine.  The  order 
of  the  President  was  not  to  their  liking.  It  took  the 
wind  out  of  their  sails;  it  upset  their  calculations. 
If  ten  thousand  volunteers  were  to  be  gathered  from 
their  own  city  and  vicinity,  and  no  troops  were  to  come 
from  adjoining  States,  State  sovereignty  would  not 
apparently  be  infringed,  and  there  would  be  no  revulsion 
of  feeling  against  the  Federal  government;  and,  most 
of  all,  if  the  secessionists  should  attempt  to  rise  in  force, 
these  ten  thousand  local  volunteers  would  in  all  proba 
bility  quickly  and  sternly  suppress  them.  The  very 
care  that  the  President  had  taken  to  humor  their 
prejudices  aroused  them  to  intense  and  bitter  activity 
against  the  Federal  government.  With  warmth  they 


84          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

asked  if  these  ten  thousand  Missourians  were  not  to  be 
used  in  defending  the  property  of  the  United  States, 
the  very  property  that  they  had  vainly  tried  to  get  into 
their  own  hands?  Was  it  not  as  unjust  to  use  Missouri 
ans  to  guard  Federal  property  within  the  boundaries  of 
their  own  State  as  it  was  to  use  them  to  guard  like  prop 
erty  in  Maryland  or  Virginia?  Did  not  the  President's 
plausible  policy  ruthlessly  override  State  sovereignty? 
Had  not  our  Governor  peremptorily  refused  to  furnish 
the  Federal  government  with  Missouri  soldiers  to  put 
down  rebellion  in  the  seceded  States?  Had  he  not 
already  replied  to  Mr.  Cameron,  President  Lincoln's 
Secretary  of  War,  that  the  requisition  for  troops  from 
Missouri  by  the  United  States  "is  illegal,  unconstitu 
tional,  revolutionary,  inhuman,  diabolical,  and  cannot 
be  complied  with?  "  l  They  did  not  propose  to  submit 
quietly  to  such  indignities.  They  were  once  more  on 
fire  for  action,  but  their  activity  now  showed  itself 
not  in  any  attempt  to  take  the  Arsenal,  but  in  sharp 
denunciation  of  the  Federal  authorities,  and  in  aiding 
in  every  possible  way  those  already  in  open  revolt. 

On  May  6th,  an  event  transpired  which  excites  laugh 
ter  now,  but  to  a  large  number  of  our  fellow-citizens 
was  natural  and  very  serious  then.  The  disloyal  police 
commissioners  of  St.  Louis,  appointed  by  our  secession 
Governor,  in  a  solemn  and  weighty  document,  formally 
demanded  of  Captain  Lyon  the  removal  of  all  United 
States  troops  from  all  places  and  buildings  occupied 
by  them  outside  the  Arsenal  grounds.  The  commission 
ers  declared  that  such  occupancy  was  "  in  derogation 
of  the  Constitution  and  laws  of  the  United  States."  2 
Captain  Lyon  in  his  reply  to  them  asked:  "  What  pro- 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  D.  of  E.,  Vol.  I,  p.  30. 
3  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  D.  of  E.,  Vol.  I,  p.  59. 


The  Fight  for  the  Arsenal  85 

visions  of  the  Constitution  and  laws  were  thus  vio 
lated?  "  The  commissioners  replied  that  originally 
"  Missouri  had  sovereign  and  exclusive  jurisdiction 
over  her  whole  territory,"  that  she  had  delegated  a 
portion  of  her  sovereignty  to  the  United  States  over 
certain  tracts  of  land  for  military  purposes,  such  as 
arsenals  and  parks,  and  asserted  that  outside  of  such 
places  the  United  States  had  no  right  to  occupy  her 
soil.  The  whole  thing  was  so  ludicrous  that  thousands 
in  St.  Louis  were  merry  over  it.  Police  commissioners 
dictating  as  to  where  the  United  States  should  house 
the  officers  of  its  army  and  quarter  its  troops!  But 
it  was  an  object  lesson  that  vividly  revealed  the  ab 
surdity  of  State  sovereignty,  in  which  so  many  at  that 
time  implicitly  believed.  Captain  Lyon  of  course 
positively  refused  to  comply  with  a  demand  so  pre 
posterous,  and  the  commissioners  with  great  gravity 
referred  it  to  the  Governor  and  legislature.  Nothing 
more  was  ever  heard  of  it. 

During  all  this  time  the  work  at  the  Arsenal  went 
right  on.  The  number  of  volunteer  soldiers  daily  in 
creased.  By  the  middle  of  June  there  were  more  than 
ten  thousand  of  them,  three  fourths  of  whom  were 
Germans.  This  latter  fact  should  be  specially  noted 
since  it  alone  can  explain  some  events  with  which  we 
yet  shall  have  to  deal.  And  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Lyon,  the  Arsenal  ceased  to  be  a  bone  of  con 
tention.  It  was  no  longer  regarded  with  solicitude 
by  the  loyal  of  the  city.  It  had  become  a  bulwark  of 
Unionism.  Whatever  came  we  felt  measurably  safe, 
since  all  the  force  of  the  Arsenal  was  now  wielded 
to  prevent  the  secession  of  Missouri,  and  to  maintain  the 
integrity  of  the  Union. 


CHAPTER   VI 

CAMP  JACKSON 

THE  story  of  Camp  Jackson  roots  itself  in  that  of  the 
Arsenal.  A  few  facts  will  show  this.  During  the  first 
days  of  April  our  disloyal  Governor  became  unusually 
patriotic.  He  thought,  or  appeared  to  think,  that  our 
State  was  about  to  be  pounced  upon  by  some  lurking 
foe,  and  must  be  made  ready  to  defend  itself.  To  ensure 
its  safety  against  an  enemy  that  no  loyal  eyes  could 
anywhere  discern,  he  determined  to  plant  a  battery 
of  artillery  on  Duncan's  Island  in  the  river  immediately 
opposite  the  Arsenal.  From  this  he  was  dissuaded, 
but  he  did  plant  one  farther  down  the  river  at  Powder 
Point,  and  another,  to  which  we  have  already  referred, 
on  the  levee,  some  distance  above  the  Arsenal.  All 
intelligent  men  of  both  parties  understood  at  once  that 
these  batteries  were  hostile  to  the  defenders  of  the  Union, 
and  if  occasion  offered  were  to  be  used  in  securing  the 
Arsenal  and  its  munitions  of  war  for  the  secessionists. 
The  Governor's  patriotic  professions  really  deceived 
but  very  few.  Still,  to  their  honor,  some  charitable  Union 
men  strove  to  put  the  best  construction  on  his  words; 
but  they  were  often  in  great  perplexity  when  they 
tried  to  harmonize  his  words  with  his  acts.  While 
plotting  for  the  secession  of  the  State  he  constantly 
harped  upon  his  devotion  to  it.  To  his  mind  evidently 
its  secession  from  the  Union  would  be  its  highest  good. 


Camp  Jackson  87 

Still,  under  existing  circumstances,  just  what  he  in 
tended  to  do,  many  could  not  even  guess.  Captain 
Lyon  declared  that  he  was  in  correspondence  with 
the  Confederate  authorities  at  Montgomery.  We  then 
thought  that  this  might  be  true,  and  now  know  from 
war  documents  that  Lyon  as  usual  was  right.  In  reply 
to  a  letter  written  by  the  Governor  on  the  17th  of  April, 
and  sent  to  Montgomery  by  private  messengers,  Jeffer 
son  Davis  wrote:  "  After  learning  as  well  as  I  could 
from  the  gentlemen  accredited  to  me  what  was  most 
needful  for  the  attack  on  the  Arsenal,  I  have  directed 
that  Captains  Green  and  Duke  should  be  furnished 
with  two  12-pounder  howitzers  and  two  32-pounder 
guns,  with  the  proper  ammunition  for  each.  These, 
from  the  commanding  hills,  will  be  effective,  both 
against  the  garrison  and  to  breach  the  inclosing  walls  of 
the  place.  I  concur  with  you  as  to  the  great  importance 
of  capturing  the  Arsenal  and  securing  its  supplies." 

On  that  same  17th  of  April,  Governor  Jackson  visited 
St.  Louis  and  had  a  conference  with  the  leading  seces 
sionists  who  resided  there.  Prominent  among  them 
was  Brigadier-General  Daniel  M.  Frost.  He  was  born 
and  bred  in  the  State  of  New  York.  He  graduated 
from  West  Point  in  1844,  and  served  both  in  the  Mexican 
War  and  on  the  western  frontier.  He  subsequently 
married  in  St.  Louis,  resigned  his  commission  in  the 
army,  and  went  into  business  in  his  adopted  city.  He 
dipped  into  politics,  became  a  State  Senator,  and  was 
finally  assigned  to  the  command  of  the  First  Brigade  of 
Missouri  Volunteer  Militia.  Snead,  who  was  aide-de 
camp  of  our  secession  Governor  and  a  soldier  in  the 
Confederate  army,  says  that  "The  Governor  trusted 
Frost  fully."  l  And  two  days  before  the  conference 

l"The  Fight  for  Missouri,"  p.  113. 


88         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

of  April  17th,  Frost  presented  to  him  a  carefully  pre 
pared  memorial,1  praying  that  he  would  authorize  him 
to  form  an  encampment  of  militia  near  our  city,  and 
order  Colonel  Bowen,  then  defending  the  western 
counties  of  the  State  against  Kansas,  to  report  to  him 
for  duty.  General  Frost  also  disclosed  his  plan  for 
placing  this  encampment  on  the  bluffs  just  below  the 
Arsenal.  This  however  was  too  bold  a  move  for  the 
politic  Governor.  It  would  too  clearly  reveal  to  all 
thoughtful  observers  his  real  purpose.  He  preferred 
so  far  as  possible  to  veil  his  intention.  He  chose  clan 
destine  action.  So  while  on  that  memorable  17th  of 
April  he  refused  the  requisition  of  the  Secretary  of  War 
for  troops  from  Missouri  in  the  vehement  and  absurd 
language  already  quoted,  and  secretly  appealed  by 
private  messengers  to  Jefferson  Davis  for  cannon  with 
which  to  bombard  and  take  the  Arsenal,  and  in  hot 
haste  summoned  the  legislature  to  meet  in  extra  session, 
at  Jefferson  City,  on  May  2d,  in  order  "  to  place  the 
State  in  a  proper  attitude  of  defence;  "  that  all  might 
be  legally  done,  he  fell  back  on  the  militia  law  of  1858, 
and  ordered  the  commanding  officers  of  the  several 
militia  districts  of  the  State  to  call  together,  on  May  6th, 
for  six  days,  those  legally  required  to  do  military  duty 
for  the  purpose  of  drill  in  the  art  of  war.  This  order 
gave  General  Frost  liberty  to  form  a  military  camp  in 
any  place  he  might  choose  within  the  limits  of  our  city 
or  county. 

But  it  was  now  too  late  to  form  his  encampment 
as  he  had  proposed  to  the  Governor  on  the  hills  over 
looking  the  Arsenal;  the  lynx-eyed,  energetic  Lyon 
had  already  occupied  those  heights  with  an  adequate 

1  Moore,  D.  of  E.,  Vol.  II,  p.  60.     Doc.  174,  p.  494.  Also  W.  R.  S.  1, 
Vol.  Ill,  pp.  5-10. 


Camp  Jackson  89 

force  of  infantry  and  artillery.  So  Frost  called  his 
militia  together  on  the  western  border  of  the  city,  in 
LindelPs  Grove,  near  the  intersection  of  Olive  Street 
and  Grand  Avenue.  There,  at  the  time  designated  by 
the  Governor,  he  went  into  encampment.  As  he  had 
urged  in  his  memorial,  Colonel  Bowen  was  ordered  to 
report  to  him.  This  to  every  loyal  onlooker  was  a 
suspicious  circumstance.  Professedly  the  encampment 
was  formed  for  the  purpose  of  drilling  the  local  militia, 
and  at  the  start  soldiers  who  were  doing  duty  in  the 
extreme  western  counties  of  the  State  were  ordered  to 
join  it.  While  some  of  them  hailed  from  St.  Louis, 
many  of  them  did  not.  Four  companies  of  Minute  Men 
in  our  city,  open  and  avowed  secessionists,  with  alacrity 
and  enthusiasm  responded  to  Frost's  call  and  stood 
foremost  among  the  troops  of  his  encampment.1  Young 
men  from  different  parts  of  the  State,  one  here  and  an 
other  there,  also  became  part  of  this  motley  military 
force.  It  is  true  that  some  loyal  young  men  had  belonged 
to  Frost's  command,  and  had  been  deceived  as  to  his 
real  character,  but  in  the  latter  part  of  April,  headed 
by  Colonel  Pritchard,  they  had  abandoned  it.  Those 
that  now  gathered  under  his  standard  were  homo 
geneous  in  sentiment.  So  by  common  consent,  in  honor 
of  the  Governor,  they  dubbed  their  encampment  Camp 
Jackson.  Still,  every  one  that  joined  it  took  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  Missouri  and  the  United  States.  But 
this  did  not  reassure  us,  since  the  significance  of  that 
act  depended  on  each  man's  view  of  State  sovereignty 
and  on  his  construction  of  the  Federal  Constitution. 

The  citizens  of  St.  Louis  looked  on  thoughtfully, 
Some  of  them  were  happy;  but  that  very  fact  tended 
to  make  those  of  opposite  views  apprehensive.  If  the 

1 W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  4  ;  also  Moore,  Vol.  IX,  Doc.  11,  p.  258. 


90          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

new  encampment  had  been  just  what  it  professed  to 
be,  simply  a  place  for  military  drill,  there  was  not  a 
loyal  man  in  the  city  who  would  have  thought  of  dis 
turbing  it.  But  there  were  disquieting  rumors  that  its 
real  character  did  not  appear  on  the  surface;  that  it  had 
been  formed  to  promote  the  secession  of  the  State, 
that  it  had  been  put  on  the  western  verge  of  the  city  so 
that,  at  a  moment's  notice,  it  could  be  used  to  suppress 
any  movement  that  might  be  made  by  its  loyal  inhab 
itants;  that  the  secessionists,  having  failed  to  take  the 
Arsenal,  proposed  now,  when  the  opportune  time  should 
arrive,  to  seize  the  city,  and  that  the  professed  defence 
of  the  State  was  simply  its  defence  against  United 
States  troops.  So  from  the  beginning  of  the  encamp 
ment  there  was  earnest  debate  among  loyal  men  as  to 
what  was  the  wisest  course  of  action,  which  continued 
until  the  whole  city  was  heaving  with  suppressed 
excitement. 

This  excitement  was  augmented  by  an  ugly  report 
concerning  the  Governor.  It  was  said  that  immediately 
after  the  munitions  of  war  had  been  removed  from 
the  Arsenal  to  Springfield,  Illinois,  he  had  sent  General 
Harding,  his  quarter-master  general,  to  St.  Louis  to 
procure  for  the  State  all  the  arms  and  ammunition  that 
he  could  find  there;  that  he  had  purchased  in  our  city 
several  hundred  hunting  rifles,  some  camp  equipage, 
and  many  tons  of  powder.  This  looked  like  preparation 
for  war.  For  what  purpose  did  the  Governor  of  the 
State,  whose  professions  were  so  bland  and  pacific, 
need  tons  of  powder?  Moreover,  this  war  material  was 
shipped  to  Jefferson  City  on  May  7th,  the  second  day 
of  the  encampment  at  LindelPs  Grove,  under  guard  of 
Captain  Kelly  and  his  company,  detailed  from  Frost's 
brigade  for  that  special  duty.  The  more  the  loyal  of 


Camp  Jackson  91 

the  city  learned  or  guessed  at,  the  more  certain  they 
became  that  Camp  Jackson  was  a  menace  both  to  St. 
Louis  and  the  State.  Still,  the  force  at  the  Camp  was 
not  large.  After  Kelly  and  his  company  had  been 
detailed  for  special  duty  elsewhere,  there  remained 
only  between  six  and  seven  hundred  men.  But  what 
ever  was  the  strength  of  the  force,  the  Union  men  of  the 
city,  with  almost  absolute  unanimity,  regarded  it  as 
hostile;  stili  as  to  what  ought  to  be  done,  they  differed 
among  themselves. 

This  military  force  had  been  called  together  under  the 
form  of  law;  it  had  done  nothing  illegal;  it  had  not 
interfered  with  the  liberties  or  privileges  of  any  one. 
Should  it  therefore  be  disturbed  before  it  had  com 
mitted  any  overt  illegal  act?  Such  was  the  question 
anxiously  discussed  by  Union  men;  while  the  secession 
ists  evidently  regarded  the  whole  situation  with  great 
satisfaction,  thinking  that  they  now  had  at  last  a 
reasonable  hope  of  securing  their  end  without  violating 
the  letter  of  the  law. 

But  nothing  escaped  the  eye  of  Lyon.  In  some  way, 
he  knew  everything  that  pertained  to  Camp  Jackson, 
and  proposed  to  do  promptly  and  energetically  his 
whole  duty  as  an  officer  of  the  United  States  Army. 
He  had  now  an  ample  force  under  arms  and  in  process 
of  drill.  There  has  been  some  dispute  as  to  the  exact 
number  of  this  force.  The  War  Documents  put  it  at 
about  three  thousand  five  hundred.  Snead  in  his 
"  The  Fight  for  Missouri,"  says  that  Lyon  had,  May 
10th,  seven  thousand  well-armed  men.  This  is  not  at 
all  sustained  by  the  best  authorities.  But  whatever 
may  have  been  the  exact  number,  he  at  all  events  was 
fully  prepared  for  his  work. 

He  did  not  however  propose  to  seize  Camp  Jackson 


92         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

by  force  before  completely  satisfying  his  counsellors 
that  such  a  step  was  absolutely  demanded  in  order 
to  preserve  the  city  and  the  State  from  being  forced  into 
secession.  He  himself  had  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt 
that  the  Camp  was  hostile  to  the  United  States,  and 
should  be  broken  up.  His  opinion  was  based  upon  the 
known  character  of  its  commander,  and  of  many  of 
the  men  that  he  had  gathered  around  his  standard. 
He  had  also  learned  much  that  was  suspicious  arid  dis 
turbing  from  those  who  had  visited  this  encampment 
of  militia.  But  he  determined  to  view  it  with  his  own 
eyes,  so  that  from  personal  observation  he  could  testify 
to  its  real  character.  On  the  9th  of  May,  he  arrayed 
himself  in  the  bombazine  gown  and  close  veil  of  Mrs. 
Alexander,  the  mother  of  Mrs.  Frank  P.  Blair.  She 
was  an  invalid  and  blind.  In  a  light,  open  carriage, 
he  was  driven  by  a  colored  servant  up  and  down  the 
avenues  of  Camp  Jackson.  He  observed  their  names. 
He  saw  the  arms  of  the  militia  and  noted  from  whence 
they  had  come.  No  one  challenged  him.  Many  in 
camp  knew  Mrs.  Alexander,  that  she  was  an  invalid 
and  blind,  and  was  accustomed  to  be  driven  out  for 
her  health.  When  he  returned  from  his  ride,  Mr.  Blair 
sat  chatting  with  Colonel  Simmons  on  the  porch  of  the 
southern  house  of  the  Arsenal.  Mr.  Blair  rose  to  help 
his  mother-in-law  from  the  carriage,  but  saw,  when  the 
bombazine  gown  was  slightly  raised,  a  pair  of  stout 
cavalry  boots.  He  and  Simmons  looked  significantly 
at  each  other  but  said  nothing.1 

That  evening  Lyon  called  together  his  Committee 
of  Safety  consisting  of  Oliver  D.  Filley,  James  0.  Broad- 
head,  Samuel  T.  Glover,  John  How  and  Julius  J.  Witzig. 
When  this  Committee  met,  Mr.  Blair  was  usually  present ; 

1  Fiske,  The  Mississippi  Valley  in  the  Civil  War,  pp.  16-17. 


Camp  Jackson  93 

and  he  sat  with  them  at  this  important,  pivotal  con 
ference.  Lyon  laid  the  whole  case  before  them.  He 
set  forth  in  detail  the  facts  pertaining  to  Camp  Jackson. 
He  portrayed  its  character.  He  testified  to  what  he 
had  seen.  He  declared  it  to  be  a  nest  of  secessionists; 
that  its  design  was  to  get  control  of  the  city  and  if 
possible  carry  the  State  out  of  the  Union,  and  that  the 
only  thing  which  remained  to  be  done  was  to  capture 
it  at  once. 

With  this  view  three  of  the  committee,  together  with 
Mr.  Blair,  were  in  hearty  accord;  but  Mr.  Glover,  an 
able  lawyer,  strongly  maintained  that  since  the  organiza 
tion  of  the  encampment  was  in  strict  conformity  to  the 
law  of  the  State,  and  those  gathered  there  had  com 
mitted  no  overt  illegal  act,  it  would  be  rash  to  attack 
and  overcome  it  by  an  armed  force.  If  it  had  in  unlawful 
possession  arms  that  belonged  to  the  United  States,  a 
writ  of  replevin  should  be  served  by  the  United  States 
marshal  on  those  in  command  there  in  order  to  recover 
these  munitions  of  war  without  any  infraction  of  law. 
If  the  United  States  marshal  required  any  force  to  aid 
him  in  serving  the  writ,  he  might  be  accompanied  by  all 
the  soldiers  under  Lyon's  command.  Mr.  How,  while 
unconditionally  for  the  Union,  was  a  conservative 
business  man  and  agreed  with  Mr.  Glover.  But  Lyon 
and  Blair  and  the  majority  of  the  Committee  were  so 
insistent  for  immediate  radical  action,  that  the  minor 
ity  at  last  reluctantly  yielded  to  them.  Nevertheless 
that  very  night  Glover,  with  some  confidential  friends, 
prepared  the  writ  of  replevin,  but  on  the  following 
forenoon,  Mr.  Blair  gave  it  a  coup  de  grace  in  language 
more  forceful  than  elegant.1  When  the  story  about  the 
writ  got  abroad  it  afforded  the  Unionists  of  the  city 

lFiske,  pp.  18-19. 


94          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

much  merriment.  It  was  one  of  those  humorous  inci 
dents  that  enlivened  and  cheered  us  amid  much  that 
was  sad  and  depressing.  Some  repeated  the  words  of 
Lincoln  in  his  inaugural  address:  " The  power  confided 
to  me  will  be  used  to  hold,  occupy,  and  possess  the  prop 
erty  and  places  belonging  to  the  government,"  and 
then  added,  "by  replevin;  "  and  this  evoked  derisive 
laughter. 

For  two  or  three  days  rumors  had  reached  General 
Frost  that  Captain  Lyon  was  preparing  to  attack  his 
encampment,  and  these  rumors  were  so  numerous  and 
persistent,  that  Frost,  on  the  morning  of  May  10th, 
addressed  a  letter  to  Captain  Lyon  referring  to  these 
ominous  reports  and  wishing  to  know  if  there  was  any 
truth  in  them;  also  declaring  that  neither  he  nor  his 
command  intended  any  hostility  "  towards  the  United 
States,  or  its  property  or  representatives."  How 
Frost  could  say  this  is  a  mystery.  In  January  he 
secured  from  the  disloyal  Major  Bell  the  pledge  that  he 
would  not  defend  the  Arsenal  against  State  troops  and 
so  reported  to  Governor  Jackson;  in  April  he  was  in 
conference  with  the  Governor  and  chief  secessionists  of 
St.  Louis:  in  a  formal  memorial  he  had  already  prayed 
the  Governor  to  authorize  him  to  form  a  military 
encampment  near  the  city,  and  advocated  placing  it  on 
the  heights  above  the  Arsenal;  immediately  thereafter 
the  Governor  in  an  autograph  letter,  sent  by  two  of 
the  secessionists  with  whom  he  and  Frost  had  been 
plotting  to  take  the  very  property  of  the  United  States 
that  Frost  now  declared  he  had  no  intention  of  touching, 
solicited  personally  from  Jefferson  Davis  cannon  to  be 
planted  on  those  heights,  where  Frost  contended  that 
his  encampment  should  be  formed.  This  very  loyal 
man  a  little  later  went  straight  into  the  rebel  army. 


Camp  Jackson  95 

He  evidently  went  to  his  own  place.  On  June  12th, 
1861,  he  openly  proclaimed  himself  a  rebel.1  In  Decem 
ber  of  that  year  he  was  doing  for  the  Southern  Confed 
eracy  the  work  of  a  spy  at  St.  Louis.2  The  sandy- 
haired,  blue-eyed  Captain  at  the  Arsenal  knew  Frost's 
real  character;  and  did  not  deign  to  answer  his  letter 
that  was  so  full  of  professed  loyalty  to  the  United  States. 

All  of  Lyon's  forces  were  at  noon  gathered  at  the 
Arsenal  and  ready  to  do  his  bidding.  About  two  o'clock 
he  divided  his  brigade  into  three  detachments  and 
ordered  them  to  proceed  by  different  routes  to  Camp 
Jackson.  Two  of  them  went  on  different  streets  up 
through  the  central  part  of  the  city,  one  along  its 
western  boundary.  They  arrived  simultaneously  on 
different  sides  of  the  camp  and  took  possession  of 
every  approach  to  it.  The  artillery  took  positions 
on  the  higher  points  of  ground  around  the  encampment. 
The  whole  movement  was  executed  with  skill  and 
precision.  Lyon  now  sent  a  communication  to  Frost, 
setting  forth  what  he  considered  to  be  the  real  character 
of  his  camp.  He  demanded  the  immediate  and  un 
conditional  surrender  of  his  entire  command.  He  gave 
him  thirty  minutes  to  decide  what  he  would  do.  Frost 
now  had  a  brief  consultation  with  his  staff.  They  saw 
that  they  were  surrounded  by  a  force  greatly  superior 
to  their  own.  To  fight  would  be  worse  than  folly. 
They  chose  the  part  of  wisdom  and  surrendered.  They 
turned  over  to  the  United  States  forces  all  their  arms, 
ammunition,  accoutrements  and  camp  equipage. 

The  excitement  produced  in  the  city  by  the  marching 


JYet  Lucian  Carr,  "In  Missouri  a  Bone  of  Contention,"  Series 
of  American  Commonwealths,  pp.  304-305,  contends  that  Frost 
was  loyal. 

2  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  706. 


96          A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

of  Lyon's  troops  through  it,  and  by  his  investment 
and  capture  of  the  secession  camp,  was  wide-spread  and 
intense.  To  what  deeds  of  violence  it  might  lead 
no  one  could  conjecture,  but  all  feared  some  catas 
trophe.  When  the  troops  were  moving  towards  the 
encampment,  almost  involuntarily  I  joined  the  throngs 
on  the  street  that  were  hurrying  thitherward.  I  met 
a  large  sandy-haired  man,  fully  six  feet  in  height,  hat 
in  hand,  head  partially  bald,  with  shaggy  overhanging 
eyebrows.  He  was  a  stranger  to  me.  He  was  not 
apparently  in  a  rage,  but  his  massive  frame  shook 
with  emotion.  He  knew  me,  and  with  nervous,  jerky 
gesticulation  and  in  a  loud  tone  of  voice  he  cried, 
"  This  is  the  result  of  just  such  preaching  as  yours!  " 
I  replied,  "  What  do  you  think  Lyon  is  going  to  do?  " 
With  still  greater  vehemence  he  cried  out,  "  He's  gone 
out  to  kill  all  the  boys,  —  to  kill  the  boys,"  and  strode 
on  faster  than  I  cared  to  go.  He  was  a  slightly  exag 
gerated  example  of  the  agitation  that  swayed  and 
impelled  the  thousands  that  were  gathering  in  the 
neighborhood  of  that  fated  camp.  It  was  invested 
at  half  past  three  in  the  afternoon.  Then  men  came 
running  from  all  directions  with  rifles,  shot  guns  and 
pistols.  When  they  heard  of  the  movement  of  Lyon 
and  Blair  they  had,  by  common  impulse,  started 
out,  with  such  weapons  as  they  could  command 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  to  re-enforce  the  brigade 
of  Frost.  It  was  a  pity  that  they  arrived  too  late. 
If  they  had  been  thirty  minutes  earlier  the  number 
of  prisoners  taken  by  Lyon  would  have  been  largely 
increased,  and  possibly  the  unfortunate  and  needless 
effusion  of  blood,  which  marked  the  close  of  the  scene 
at  Camp  Jackson,  would  have  been  avoided. 
Lyon  offered  to  release  the  prisoners  if  they  would 


Camp  Jackson  97 

swear  to  support  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
and  not  to  take  up  arms  against  the  Federal  government. 
This  they  then  refused  to  do  on  the  ground  that  they 
had  already  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United 
States,  and  to  repeat  it  would  be  a  confession  of  dis 
loyalty.  So  they  were  marched  out  of  the  camp,  forming 
a  long  column  between  two  lines  of  Union  soldiers.  While 
this  column  of  prisoners  was  being  completed  those 
farthest  in  advance  were  brought  to  a  halt.  That  brief 
delay  resulted  in  bloody  disaster.  Many  of  the  prisoners 
belonged  to  families  of  high  social  standing  in  the  city. 
The  soldiers  that  were  in  line  on  either  side  of  them 
were  mostly  Germans,  always  scornfully  called  Dutch 
by  the  secessionists.  Throngs  of  angry  men  and 
women  pressed  up  close  to  them,  gesticulating  and 
heaping  upon  them  opprobrious,  stinging  epithets. 
It  was  difficult  for  them  to  endure  this  without  retalia 
tion.  Among  those  who  upbraided  them  were  the  men 
who  had  hurried  thither  with  arms  to  re-enforce  the 
camp.  With  their  rifles,  shotguns  and  pistols  in  hand 
they  bitterly  taunted,  and  struck  with  their  fists,  the 
captors  of  their  relatives  and  friends.  Human  nature 
at  last  gave  way.  A  few  of  the  soldiers  at  the  head  of 
the  column  turned  and  fired  into  the  mocking,  vitupera 
tive  crowd  and  for  their  rash  act  were  promptly  put 
under  arrest.  By  that  volley  happity  no  one  was  injured. 
But  the  firing  enhanced  the  fury  of  the  disloyal  in  the 
gathered  and  gathering  multitude.  Some,  pressing 
upon  the  soldiers,  spat  upon  them.  Some  threw  stones 
into  their  ranks ;  there  were  two  or  three  shots  from  the 
turbulent  throng,  when,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  columns 
of  soldiers,  one  or  two  volleys  were  poured  into  the 
excited  throng.  It  was  positively  denied  that  any 
officer  commanded  the  soldiers  under  him  to  fire. 


98         A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

These  undisciplined  volunteers  were  unable  to  stand 
motionless  and  in  silence  when  attacked  by  stones  and 
guns.  The  result  was  pitiable.  The  number  of  killed 
and  wounded  was  about  twenty-five.  Not  alone  those 
guilty  of  jeering  and  attacking  the  soldiers  were  struck 
down,  but  chiefly  the  innocent,  who  had  been  attracted 
to  the  spot  by  the  general  and  unusual  excitement,  and 
some  of  them  were  women  and  children.  This  catas 
trophe  stirred  the  city  to  its  depths.  While  the  loyal 
rejoiced  over  the  capture  of  the  camp,  they  deplored 
the  unnecessary  bloodshed  that  had  attended  it;  still, 
taking  into  account  the  irritating  provocation,  they 
could  not  lay  the  blame  wholly  on  the  raw  German 
troops;  nevertheless,  the  secessionists,  humiliated  and 
exasperated,  swore  that  they  would  avenge  the  capture 
of  their  camp. 

At  about  half  past  five,  soldiers  and  prisoners  began 
their  long  march  to  the  Arsenal.  The  streets  through 
which  they  passed  were  lined  with  people  agitated 
with  deep  but  diverse  emotions.  Some  viewed  with 
smiles,  if  not  with  open-mouthed  exultation,  the  column 
of  disarmed,  tramping  prisoners,  shut  in  between  files 
of  newly  armed  Germans;  the  same  scene  stirred  others 
to  bitter  execration.  From  the  windows  of  some  houses 
the  soldiers  were  saluted  by  the  waving  of  handker 
chiefs;  from  the  windows  of  others  women  expressed 
their  bitter  scorn  by  spitting  at  them.  These  troops 
with  their  crestfallen  prisoners  marched  along  a  street 
which  crossed  the  one  on  which  I  lived.  A  lady  from 
the  South  was  spending  a  few  days  with  a  family  that 
lived  next  door  to  me.  She  was  a  very  pleasant  person, 
and  altogether  sane  on  every  subject  except  that  of 
secession.  Any  allusion  to  that  seemed  at  once  to  un 
balance  her.  She  stood  with  quite  a  large  group  of 


Camp  Jackson  99 

spectators  at  the  intersection  of  the  streets,  viewing 
the  troops  as  they  began  to  file  past  with  the  prisoners. 
She  trembled  with  excitement.  She  forgot  her  ladyhood. 
She  clenched  and  shook  her  fist  at  the  soldiers,  and 
cried,  "  They've  got  my  lover."  A  moment  after  she 
ran  up  to,  and  spat  upon,  a  soldier;  in  a  twinkling  he 
broke  ranks,  leveled  his  bayonet  toward  her,  and  chased 
her  down  the  street  before  my  door.  A  sergeant  fol 
lowed  him,  seized  him  by  the  collar  and  led  him  back 
to  his  place  in  the  marching  column. 

When  night  was  slowly  shutting  down  on  the  city, 
soldiers  and  prisoners  arrived  at  the  Arsenal;  the 
former  to  stand  guard  over  their  new  charge,  the  latter 
to  think  after  the  excitement  of  the  day  was  over  on 
this  sudden  and  unexpected  change  in  their  affairs. 

For  supper  they  were  offered  ordinary  soldier's  fare; 
but  having  been  luxuriously  fed  at  Camp  Jackson  from 
the  tables  of  their  secession  friends,  they  scorned  army 
rations.  They  not  only  refused  to  eat  but,  to  show  their 
contempt  for  their  captors  and  their  resentment  for 
being  treated  as  prisoners  of  war,  they  kicked  over  the 
buckets  of  coffee  provided  for  them,  and  tossed  the 
hardtack  and  bacon  over  the  enclosing  wall  of  the  Ar 
senal.  They  were  not  very  hungry,  but  some  of  them 
afterwards  reported  that  they  were  treated  with  indig 
nity  and  that  the  Yankees  tried  to  starve  them. 

At  the  taking  of  Camp  Jackson  there  was  a  spectator, 
then  comparatively  unknown,  who  was  destined  to  fill 
a  large  place  in  his  country's  history.  He  was  a  graduate 
of  West  Point  and  had  served  with  fidelity  as  a  subordi 
nate  officer  in  the  regular  army.  Besides  such  service 
he  had  been  by  turns  a  banker  in  San  Francisco  and 
New  York,  an  attorney  in  Leavenworth,  Kansas,  and 
superintendent  of  a  military  academy  in  Louisiana. 


100       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Just  then  he  was  president  of  a  street  horse-car  railway 
in  St.  Louis.  Such,  up  to  that  time,  had  been  the 
checkered  career  of  William  Tecumseh  Sherman. 

Immediately  after  the  taking  of  Camp  Jackson,  a 
rebel  flag  at  Fifth  and  Pine  Streets  came  down  never 
to  be  run  up  again.  This  was  the  first  visible  effect  of 
Lyon's  victory.  The  lowering  of  that  symbol  of  dis 
union  was  witnessed  by  a  modest  man,  before  whom 
was  opening  a  marvellously  brilliant  career  of  which  as 
yet  he  had  not  even  dreamed.  He  was  then  thirty-nine 
years  old.  He  too  was  a  graduate  of  West  Point,  and 
while  an  officer  of  lower  rank  had  distinguished  himself 
by  efficient  and  brilliant  service.  But  for  a  time, 
turning  aside  from  a  military  life,  he  had  been  a  farmer, 
a  speculator  in  real  estate,  and  a  leather-dealer.  But 
now,  when  needed  in  defence  of  the  Union,  he  had 
offered  his  services  to  his  country  through  the  Governor 
of  Illinois,  and  had  come  over  to  St.  Louis  on  a  tour  of 
observation.  He  heard  the  shouts  that  the  taking 
of  Camp  Jackson  and  the  coming  down  of  the  Stars 
and  Bars  from  the  roof  of  the  secession  rendezvous  drew 
from  loyal  throats.  Soon  after  he  started  in  a  horse-car 
for  the  Arsenal  that  he  might  personally  congratulate 
Captain  Lyon  on  the  wise  and  timely  work  that  he  had 
so  resolutely  and  skilfully  done.  In  the  car  a  young 
Southerner,  full  of  anguish  and  wrath  over  the  lowering 
of  the  secession  flag,  said  to  him:  " Things  have  come 

to  a  d d  pretty  pass  when  a  free  people  can't  choose 

their  own  flag.  Where  I  came  from,  if  a  man  dares  to 
say  a  word  in  favor  of  the  Union,  we  hang  him  to  a  limb 
of  the  first  tree  we  come  to."  The  modest  man,  into 
whose  ears  he  poured  this  vengeful  screed,  quietly 
replied:  "  After  all,  we  are  not  so  intolerant  in  St.  Louis 
as  we  might  be;  I  have  not  seen  a  single  rebel  hung 


Camp  Jackson  101 

yet,  nor  heard  of  one;  there  are  plenty  of  them  who 
ought  to  be,  however." l  To  this  stinging  rebuke 
there  was  no  response.  The  young  and  fiery  secessionist 
was  dumb  before  a  man  of  power;  he  felt,  but  could  not 
understand,  the  humbling  force  of  his  simple  words. 
The  name  of  that  unswerving  Unionist  and  patriot, 
Ulysses  Simpson  Grant,  is  now  in  our  own  nation,  and 
in  all  nations  that  love  freedom,  a  household  word. 

But  the  excitement  that  was  created  in  the  city  by 
the  capture  of  Frost  and  his  brigade  is  indescribable. 
Throngs  gathered  on  all  the  principal  thoroughfares. 
On  Fourth  Street,  then  the  centre  of  the  retail  trade 
of  the  city,  crowds  moved  to  and  fro  eager  for  news. 
They  bore  banners  of  various  and  diverse  devices.  One 
band  of  men  as  they  pushed  excitedly  along  cheered, 
another  going  in  the  opposite  direction  answered  the 
cheer  by  a  groan.  Distinguished  and  influential  citizens 
addressed  an  excited  multitude  in  front  of  the  Planters' 
Hotel,  endeavoring  to  allay  their  seething  passions. 
At  different  places  in  the  city  men  were  speaking  to 
impromptu  audiences,  in  which  some  were  cheering 
while  others  were  yelling  defiance,  to  bring  them  if 
possible  to  calmness  and  reason.  In  different  directions 
a  shot  could  now  and  then  be  heard.  As  soon  as  it  was 
dark,  from  fear  of  riot,  the  saloons  and  restaurants  were 
closed  and  their  doors  were  bolted  and  barred.  The 
windows  of  many  private  houses  were  also  shut  and 
securely  fastened.  The  theatres  and  all  places  of  public 
amusement  were  empty.  The  police  were  on  the  alert, 
but  were  taxed  to  the  utmost  to  nip  in  the  bud  any 
show  of  disorder.  In  spite  of  their  vigilance  and  effi 
ciency  a  crowd  made  a  charge  on  Dimick's  gun-store 
on  Main  Street,  broke  open  the  door  and  secured  fifteen 

1  Fiske,  The  Mississippi  Valley  in  the  Civil  War,  p.  20. 


102        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

or  twenty  guns,  when  the  gathering  mob  was  dispersed 
by  about  twenty  policemen  armed  with  muskets.  But 
as  the  night  wore  on  the  excitement  abated;  men  by 
degrees  sought  their  homes  and  their  beds;  some  in 
quietude  to  rejoice  over  the  brightening  prospects  of 
Unionism,  others  to  mourn  over  the  fading  hopes  of 
secession. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  prisoners  at  the  Arsenal 
viewed  more  favorably  the  conditions  on  which  the  day 
before  parole  had  been  offered  them.  All  but  one  now 
took  the  prescribed  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United 
States,  and,  thereupon  being  paroled,  left  for  their 
homes,  where  they  were  joyfully  greeted  and  sat 
down  to  well-loaded  tables.  The  plucky  one,  however, 
persisting  for  a  time  in  his  refusal  to  subscribe  to  the 
oath,  remained  in  durance  vile.  But  many  of  those 
who  were  paroled  openly  declared  that  they  did  not 
intend  to  abide  by  their  oaths,  excusing  their  pur 
posed  per j my  on  the  specious  plea  that  an  oath  taken 
under  compulsion  is  not  binding. 

This  disregard  of  the  oath  of  allegiance  stirred  up 
all  good  men  in  our  city  to  consider  its  sanctity  and 
to  protest  against  its  wanton  violation.  Still,  most  of 
those  captured  at  Camp  Jackson,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  they  were  paroled  because  they  deliberately  swore 
that  they  would  not  take  up  arms  against  the  United 
States,  enlisted  sooner  or  later  in  the  army  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy. 

The  sudden  and  unexpected  taking  of  Camp  Jackson 
carried  consternation  into  the  secession  legislature,  then 
in  extra  session  at  Jefferson  City.  It  was  announced  to 
them  between  five  arid  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
The  members  of  the  Assembly  were  discussing  a  militia 
bill,  which,  after  receiving  the  news,  they  passed  within 


Camp  Jackson  103 

fifteen  minutes.  In  haste  they  sent  it  to  the  Senate, 
where  it  was  passed  instanter  without  debate. 

This  bill,  which  General  Harney  later  characterized 
as  a  secession  measure,  created  a  military  fund  for 
arming  and  equipping  the  militia  of  the  State.  All 
moneys  in  the  treasury  collected  for  other  and  specified 
objects  were  diverted  to  this  purpose.  To  augment 
this  military  fund  taxes  on  the  assessed  value  of  property 
were  enormously  increased.  Even  the  school  tax  was 
subsidized  for  three  years.  Moreover,  the  Governor 
was  authorized  to  call  on  the  banks  for  a  loan  of  five 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  By  this  bill,  the  militia 
were  required  to  take  an  oath  that  asserted  fealty  to 
Missouri  as  first  and  supreme ; l  so  dominant  was  State 
sovereignty  in  the  minds  of  these  secession  legislators. 

At  half  past  seven  the  legislature,  which  had  become 
calmer  and  in  some  measure  reassured,  met  once  more 
to  discuss  the  anomalous  condition  of  affairs.  But  as 
there  seemed  to  be  no  immediate  danger,  these  disloyal 
lawmakers  adjourned  at  half-past  nine,  and,  with  most 
of  the  peaceably  disposed  inhabitants  of  Jefferson  City, 
retired  for  the  night.  But  their  rest  was  soon  broken. 
A  little  after  midnight  the  bells  began  to  ring  furiously; 
a  tremendous  thunder-storm  was  just  bursting  upon  the 
city;  amid  vivid  lightning  flashes,  deafening  thunder 
claps,  and  torrents  of  pelting  rain,  men  on  foot  and  on 
horseback  flew  through  the  city,  summoning  with 
stentorian  cries  the  legislature  to  assemble  with  all 
possible  despatch.  It  met  in  secret  session  at  half  past 
three  in  the  morning.  Without  deliberation  it  gave  the 
Governor  absolute  control  over  St.  Louis  and  con 
ferred  upon  him  extraordinary  powers  for  suppres 
sing  insurrectionary  movements  throughout  the  State. 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  IX,  Doc.  11,  p.  269. 


104        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

What  terrible  thing  had  produced  this  panic?  A 
rumor,  flying  on  the  wings  of  darkness,  had  reached  the 
city  that  Colonel  Blair,  with  two  thousand  troops, 
was  on  his  way  to  the  State  capital.  He  was  coming 
on  the  Pacific  Railroad.  Steam-cars  moved  rapidly  and 
this  hostile  invasion  must  be  met  at  once,  if  met  at  all. 
Without  any  delay  the  Governor  and  his  staff  began 
to  remove  war  material  from  the  city.  Under  the  cover 
of  darkness  they  sent  twelve  thousand  kegs  of  powder 
into  the  country.  An  armed  and  tumultuous  band  of 
men  moved  eastward  and  burned  the  railroad  bridge 
over  the  Osage.  This  relieved  the  fears  of  those  at  the 
capital,  since  Blair  with  his  German  minions  would  for 
a  time,  at  all  events,  be  hindered  by  that  swollen  and 
bridgeless  river.  But  it  was  all  a  baseless  fright.  Colonel 
Blair  and  his  soldiers  were  serenely  sleeping  at  St.  Louis, 
having  been  lulled  to  their  slumbers  by  the  satisfaction 
that  in  taking  Camp  Jackson  they  had  done  a  good 
day's  work  for  the  Union. 

The  next  day,  the  llth  of  May,  all  the  material 
captured  at  Camp  Jackson  was  removed  to  the  Arsenal. 
Then  all  the  city  knew,  what  Lyon  had  known  before, 
the  hostile  nature  of  that  captured  camp.  Its  main 
avenue  was  named  Jefferson  Davis ;  one  of  its  principal 
cross-streets  Beauregard.  Its  arms,  both  muslvets  and 
cannon,  had  been  stolen  from  the  Arsenal  at  Baton 
Rouge.  They  had  been  consigned  as  marble  1  to  "  Ta- 
moroa,  Care  of  Greely  and  Gale."  This  was  of  course 
a  mere  blind,  since  the  firm  of  Greely  and  Gale  was 
distinguished  in  the  city  for  its  outspoken  loyalty. 
But  the  officers  of  the  steamer  on  which  these  munitions 
of  war  were  brought  up  the  river  to  St.  Louis  were 

1D.  J.  Hancock,  President  of  the  Illinois  River  Packet  Co.,  says 
the  cannon  were  sent  in  crockery  crates. 


Camp  Jackson  105 

in  sympathy  with  General  Frost  and  his  immediate 
counsellors,  and,  without  raising  any  question,  de 
livered  this  war  material,  not  to  those  to  whom  it  was 
consigned,  but  to  those  for  whom  it  was  intended. 
Among  the  cannon  were  the  pieces  that  Jefferson  Davis 
had  ordered  to  St.  Louis,  that  were  to  be  placed,  accord 
ing  to  the  plan  of  General  Frost  and  the  Governor,  on 
the  bluffs,  overlooking  the  Arsenal,  in  order  to  capture 
it;  but  since  the  opportunity  to  plant  them  there 
had  passed,  they  were  taken  instead  to  Camp  Jackson. 
Everybody  who  did  not  know  before,  knew  now  that 
Camp  Jackson  was  an  ally  of  the  Southern  Confederacy.1 
Some  of  the  young  men  within  that  camp,  as  has  been 
claimed,  may  have  been  hoodwinked  Unionists,  but 
considering  all  the  evidences  of  the  disloyal  character 
of  the  encampment,  daily  thrust  before  their  eyes,  if 
they  were  deceived,  they  must  have  been  unusually 
stupid. 
'See  Lyon's  Report,  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  4-6;  also  pp.  386-387. 


CHAPTER   VII 

RIOT,    PANIC,    SEARCH   AND    CONFISCATION 

WHILE  on  the  llth  of  May,  the  day  succeeding  the 
capture  of  Camp  Jackson,  the  frenzy  evoked  by  that 
startling  event  had  measurably  passed  away,  it  had  been 
succeeded,  in  the  minds  of  many  of  the  disloyal,  by  a 
grim  determination  to  take  summary  vengeance  on  the 
victorious  Unionists.  On  that  very  day,  at  the  evening 
twilight,  the  opportunity  presented  itself  for  carrying 
out  their  vindictive  purpose.  It  was  rumored  that  a 
regiment  of  Home  Guards,  made  up  largely  of  Germans, 
was  about  to  return  from  the  Arsenal,  where  it  had 
just  been  armed.  In  some  way  a  band  of  fiery  seces 
sionists  ascertained  the  route  that  the  regiment  would 
take  on  its  return  march,  and  for  the  purpose  of  harass 
ing  and  attacking  it,  hid  themselves  behind  the  pillars 
of  a  Presbyterian  Church,  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and 
Walnut  Streets.  In  dwelling-houses  opposite  the  church 
were  some  of  their  allies.  They  had  planned  to  attack 
the  regiment  simultaneously  on  both  flanks.  And  when 
in  the  gathering  darkness,  these  newly  armed  men  were 
peacefully  passing  westward  along  Walnut  Street, 
their  concealed  foes  at  first  jeered  and  hissed  them.  This 
was  followed  by  unprovoked  and  dastardly  attack. 
Missiles  of  various  kinds,  from  both  sides  of  the  street, 
were  hurled  into  the  ranks  of  these  new,  undisciplined 
volunteers.  A  revolver  was  fired  at  them  from  behind 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation     107 

the  pillars  of  the  church  and  a  soldier  fell  dead.  Two 
shots  then  rang  out  from  the  windows  of  the  houses 
opposite  the  church.  The  soldiers  in  the  van,  now 
thoroughly  demoralized,  wheeled  about  and  wildly 
fired  down  the  street.  The  musket-balls  flew  in  every 
direction.  Some  hit  the  church,  some  the  houses 
opposite  the  church,  while  some  were  poured  into  their 
own  ranks.  When  the  firing  ceased  six  men  lay  dead 
on  the  pavement:  four  of  their  own  regiment,  three  of 
whom  they  themselves  had  killed,  and  two  unarmed 
citizens;  while  several  innocent  passers-by  were  wounded.1 
This  sad  event  stirred  up  much  vengeful  passion. 
There  was  crimination  and  recrimination.  Feeling 
on  both  sides  ran  high.  It  was  intense,  bitter,  hot. 
Portentous  rumors  filled  the  air.  Apprehension  of 
something  awful  pervaded  many  minds.  Disaster 
seemed  impending.  On  a  city  thus  agitated  and  torn 
midnight  darkness  at  last  graciously  fell.  A  merciful 
Providence  had  at  least  held  the  contending  multitudes 
back  from  general  riot. 

Morning  dawned.  It  was  Sunday,  the  12th  of  May. 
The  heavens  were  partially  overcast,  and  there  was  a 
chill  in  the  air.  Very  few  besides  the  newsboys  were 
seen  in  the  streets.  The  general  silence  seemed  in  some 
way  to  foretoken  the  near  approach  of  some  overwhelm 
ing  calamity.  Abject  fear  had  taken  possession  of  many 
minds.  The  doors  of  hundreds  of  dwelling-houses  were 
shut  and  bolted,  and  the  windows  darkened  by  blinds 
and  shades  were  securely  fastened.  No  one  passing 
along  the  nearly  deserted  thoroughfares  could  escape 
a  certain  weird  influence  that  enwrapped  him  and  all 
things  about  him.  Objects  the  most  familiar  wore  an 
unusual  and  an  uncanny  aspect.  What  power  was  this 

*  W.  K.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  9, 


108        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

which,  from  enfolding  shadows,  reached  out  its  formless 
yet  mighty  hand  and  grasped  thousands  in  our  city 
and  held  them  quivering  with  terror  in  its  relentless 
grip?  This,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  men  have  called 
a  panic.  How  it  comes  no  one  has  ever  been  able  to 
tell;  how  it  departs  never  to  return  is  equally  mysteri 
ous.  But  on  that  Sunday  morning,  so  long  ago,  it  had 
thrown  its  horrid  spell  over  St.  Louis.  And  while  men 
according  to  their  varied  constitutions  were  differently 
affected,  none  wholly  escaped  its  dread  touch.  Still, 
what  it  was,  no  one  was  astute  enough  to  explain,  but 
that  it  was  an  awful  reality  thousands  in  the  evening 
of  that  day  of  inexplicable  alarm  could  testify. 

The  day  before,  General  Harney  had  returned  from 
Washington  and  resumed  his  old  command.  Before 
the  gray  dawn  of  the  day  of  panic,  some  prominent 
citizens,  incited  by  fear  of  which  they  could  give  no 
rational  explanation,  implored  the  General  to  protect 
them  against  the  murderous  Dutch  (Germans),  who 
were  about  to  kill  them  and  loot  and  burn  their  houses. 
When  Harney  asked  them  for  the  evidence  of  their 
declarations  they  had  nothing  more  substantial  to  offer 
than  Dame  Rumor.  Still,  wishing  to  quiet  their  fears, 
he  decided  to  yield  to  their  entreaties  so  far  as  he  could 
do  so  with  dignity.  So  he  sent  from  the  Arsenal  de 
tachments  of  soldiers  to  those  parts  of  the  city,  repre 
sented  to  be  most  exposed  to  the  incursions  of  what 
he  himself  believed  to  be  purely  imaginary  foes.  He 
also  issued  a  proclamation  and  posted  it  up  in  all  of 
the  most  frequented  streets  and  public  places,  declaring 
to  the  people  that  he  nowhere  saw  any  evidence  of  special 
danger,  and  appealed  to  them  to  lay  aside  their  ground 
less  fear.  These  considerate  acts  of  the  General  had  ex 
actly  the  opposite  effect  from  what  he  intended;  instead 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation     109 

of  quieting  the  people  they  excited  them  still  more; 
instead  of  allaying,  they  intensified,  their  alarm.  And 
such  an  outcome  was  altogether  natural.  Bodies  of 
armed  men  marching  hither  and  thither  through  the 
city  and  stationed  at  different  points  as  guards,  and  a 
proclamation  hurriedly  issued  on  Sunday  morning, 
seemed  to  them  to  be  tangible  proof  of  the  existence 
of  greater  danger  than  they  had  supposed.  And,  as 
the  hours  of  the  morning  wore  away,  the  apprehension 
of  some  awful  calamity  about  to  fall  upon  the  inhabit 
ants  of  the  city  grew  until  a  great  multitude  were  filled 
with  terror. 

At  the  usual  hour  for  morning  service,  I  went  to 
church.  On  my  way  thither,  I  saw  but  few  going  to 
the  different  houses  of  worship.  My  own  congregation 
was  about  one  third  of  its  usual  size.  Most  of  the  church 
officers  were  absent.  At  the  close  of  the  service,  groups 
of  the  small  audience  exchanged  with  each  other  a 
few  words,  declaring  that  in  their  judgment  there  was 
no  danger,  that  the  general  fright  was  baseless,  and 
then  evidently  with  some  degree  of  anxiety  quickly 
departed  for  their  homes. 

It  was  now  between  twelve  and  one.  The  clouds  of 
the  morning  were  gone.  The  sun  shone  brightly.  But 
the  few  people  venturing  out  into  the  streets  seemed 
even  more  cheerless  and  terror-stricken  than  earlier  in 
the  day.  Here  and  there  a  carriage,  filled  with  anxious 
faces,  was  driven  hurriedly  along.  Just  after  my  dinner, 
about  two  o'clock,  my  landlord  and  next-door  neighbor, 
a  moderate  secessionist,  cautious,  conservative,  phleg 
matic,  called  to  see  me.  He  asked,  apparently  with 
great  coolness :  "  Do  you  think  that  we  are  in  any  special 
danger?  "  I  answered,  "No,  I  do  not  think  we  are. 
The  Germans,  who  have  inspired  so  many  with  alarm, 


110        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

have  no  ill  will  towards  us.  The  fear,  now  agitating 
so  many  in  the  city,  has  not  a  particle  of  foundation." 
"Well,"  he  replied,  "that  is  just  what  I  think,  but"  - 
and  here  he  betrayed  his  suspicion  that  there  might  be 
some  danger  which  did  not  appear  on  the  surface  - 
"  do  you  think  when  General  Harney  declared  this 
morning  in  his  proclamation  that  there  was  no  cause 
for  alarm,  he  concealed  anything  from  the  public?  " 
I  assured  him  that  I  fully  believed  that  the  general 
was  acting  a  truthful  and  honorable  part.  He  said: 
"  I  think  so  too,"  and  bade  me  good  day;  but  within 
thirty  minutes,  an  open  two-horse  carriage  drove  up 
to  his  door;  his  family  brought  out  satchels,  bags  and 
pillow-cases,  hastily  stuffed  with  necessary  articles 
of  clothing,  threw  them  pell-mell  into  the  vehicle, 
and  unceremoniously  clambering  in  after  them,  drove 
away  at  breakneck  speed  as  though  they  were  pursued 
by  some  invisible  demon. 

This  led  me  to  go  out  and  walk  hither  and  thither 
through  the  central  part  of  the  city.  The  scene  presented 
to  my  view  was  surpassingly  strange.  Carriages  and 
wagons  filled  with  trunks,  valises,  hastily  made  bundles, 
and  frightened  men,  women  and  children  were  flying 
along  the  streets  towards  every  point  of  the  compass. 
Some  scared  souls,  unable  to  obtain  a  vehicle  of  any 
kind,  were  walking  or  running  with  breathless  haste, 
carrying  all  sorts  of  bundles  in  their  hands,  under  their 
arms  or  on  their  shoulders.  All  these  were  fleeing  from 
imaginary  danger.  But  the  fancied  conflagration  and 
slaughter  which  they  believed  themselves  to  be  escaping 
were  to  them  awful  realities,  enacted,  with  all  their 
attendant  horrors,  over  and  over  again  within  their 
minds. 

Some   of  the   panic-stricken   fled   into  the   country 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation     111 

and  found  shelter  in  outside  villages  and  farmhouses. 
A  gentleman,  who  lived  several  miles  northwest  of  the 
city,  told  me  that  these  frightened  fugitives  filled  all 
his  spare  beds,  and  lay  all  over  the  floors  of  his  upper 
and  lower  hall  and  parlor.  He  was  a  Union  man  and 
poked  fun  at  his  unexpected  secession  guests  on  their 
senseless  terror,  but  finding  them  just  then  incapable 
of  mirth,  and  seeing  that  they  were  still  keenly  suffering 
from  imaginary  horrors,  he  mercifully  desisted. 

The  scene  at  this  farmhouse  was  representative  of 
many  similar  scenes  on  that  night  in  all  the  country 
about  St.  Louis.  But  many  of  the  fugitives  crossed  the 
river  on  the  ferry-boats  and  sought  refuge  in  black- 
Republican  Illinois.  A  host  of  them  also  filled  the 
steamers  at  the  levee  and  went  north  to  Alton  and 
Quincy,  and  South  to  Cairo  and  Columbus,  while  some 
of  them  refused  to  land  till  they  reached  Memphis. 
It  is  difficult  for  any  one  not  an  eye-witness  to  believe 
that  such  a  stupid  stampede  could  ever  have  taken 
place. 

But  some  of  the  terror-stricken,  who  did  not  flee, 
acted  with  equal  folly.  A  secession  acquaintance  of 
mine,  living  but  two  squares  from  my  door,  early  in 
the  day  transformed  his  house  into  a  fortress.  He 
invited  under  his  roof  a  dozen  or  more  of  his  southern 
friends.  Among  them  they  had  sixteen  guns  of  various 
kinds.  They  barricaded  the  door  and  windows  of  the 
house,  leaving  loop-holes  through  which  they  could 
shoot.  And  there  behind  these  hastily  constructed 
defences,  during  all  that  Sabbath  day,  they  waited  with 
shivering  apprehension  for  the  coming  of  the  dreaded 
foe,  determined,  if  they  should  be  called  to  lay  down 
their  lives,  to  sell  them  dearly. 

But  evening  came.    During  the  day  no  one  had  been 


112        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

injured.  Nothing  had  transpired  to  justify  the  abject 
fear  of  so  many  thousands  of  people.  Yet  many  of  the 
terrified,  who  still  remained  in  the  city,  were  appre 
hensive  lest  the  expected  blow  might  fall  under  the 
cover  of  the  gathering  darkness.  At  the  hour  of  evening 
service  I  was,  as  usual,  in  my  pulpit.  Only  about  sixty 
or  seventy  were  in  the  pews.  Only  one  officer  of  the 
church  was  present.  Three  neighboring  pastors  of  other 
denominations  were  there.  My  wife  and  my  sister  were 
the  only  women  in  the  congregation.  I  preached 
without  making  the  slightest  reference  to  the  events  of 
the  day,  believing  that  to  be  the  wisest  course.  When 
the  last  word  was  spoken,  the  little  company  quickly 
and  quietly  dispersed.  I  learned  the  next  day  that  we 
were  the  only  Protestant  congregation  in  the  city  that 
publicly  worshipped  on  that  anxious  evening,  and  that 
the  most  prominent  men  in  my  church  and  congregation, 
belonging  as  they  did  to  the  Home  Guards,  were  absent 
because  engaged  in  military  duty.  With  their  muskets 
they  were  endeavoring  to  protect  their  terrified  fellow- 
citizens  against  imaginary  foes. 

On  Monday  one  of  them  gave  me  a  detailed  account 
of  the  movement  of  the  Home  Guards  the  night  before. 
Early  in  the  evening  they  threw  a  line  of  scouts  across 
the  city  from  east  to  west.  Each  soldier  in  the  line 
was  a  square  from  his  fellow.  They  then  began  to  feel 
their  way  cautiously  toward  the  southern  part  of  the 
city,  where  most  of  the  Germans  lived,  who  were  sup 
posed  to  be  so  bloodthirsty.  As  they  reached  each 
street,  running  east  and  west,  the  scouts  halted  until 
word  was  passed  from  one  to  another  along  the  whole 
extended  line;  then  they  crept  on  again  toward  that 
awful,  invisible  enemy.  Nobody  was  abroad  on  the 
streets.  The  city  was  almost  as  still  as  a  churchyard. 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation     113 

The  very  stillness  added  to  the  general  terror  and  made 
the  flesh  of  the  timid  creep.  A  little  before  midnight 
these  doughty  scouts  as  they  slowly  moved  southward, 
carefully  scanning  every  street,  alley  and  house  for  some 
lurking  foe,  saw  before  them  armed  men  coming  towards 
them  from  the  south.  They  hailed  each  other.  Word 
was  passed  along  the  whole  of  their  respective  lines; 
at  last  they  were  all  gathered  together.  They  were  not 
enemies  but  friends,  all  equally  intent  on  keeping  the 
peace.  Each  man  eagerly  told  what  had  been  trans 
piring  during  the  day  in  the  part  of  the  city  to  which  he 
belonged.  These  scouts  that  had  gone  southward  said 
that  hosts  of  American-born  citizens,  living  in  the  cen 
tral  part  of  the  city,  heard  and  fully  believed  that  the 
Germans  were  coming  up  in  force  to  loot  and  burn  their 
houses  and  put  them  to  the  sword.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  armed  Germans  said  that  the  southern  part  of  the 
city,  where  they  lived,  had  all  day  been  filled  with  terror, 
because  a  baseless  rumor  was  firmly  believed  that  the 
American-born  citizens  to  the  north  of  them  were  coming 
down  to  loot  and  bum  their  dwellings  and  kill  them. 
Having  thus  told  of  the  mutual  fears  of  those  whom 
they  represented,  and  found  their  fancied  foes  to  be 
their  ardent  friends,  gloom  gave  way  to  merriment  and 
joy.  The  whole  day  with  all  its  fantastic  scenes  inspired 
by  abject  fear  seemed  now  a  huge  joke.  All  anxiety  gone, 
these  mutual  guardians  of  the  peace  shook  hands  with 
each  other  and  shook  their  sides  with  laughter.  Proud 
of  the  city  in  which  they  lived  and  grateful  for  its  con 
tinued  safety,  they  gave  three  cheers  for  her.  The 
sound  of  those  ringing  cheers  at  midnight  carried  assur 
ance  and  quietude  to  many  that  heard. 

The  next  morning  the  lethargy  of  the  city  was  as  pro 
found  as  the  excitement  of  the  preceding  day  had  been 


114        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

intense.  Before  nine  o'clock  very  few  were  astir.  Here 
and  there  a  pedestrian  passed  along  on  some  necessary 
errand.  On  some  streets  market-wagons  lumbered  by. 
The  morning  markets,  usually  so  full  of  life,  were  half 
deserted..  However,  as  the  day  wore  on,  signs  of  return 
ing  activity  multiplied;  but  when  men  met  each  other, 
they  made  scant  allusion  to  the  scenes  of  yesterday. 
There  was  evidently  a  good  deal  of  thinking,  but  there 
certainly  was  very  little  talking.  Many  appeared  to  be 
ashamed  of  themselves.  Those  who  had  been  terrorized 
manifestly  desired  to  cover  up  and  forget  their  folly; 
those  who  had  not  been  much  moved  by  the  general 
alarm,  in  kindness  restrained  themselves  from  saying, 
"  I  told  you  so."  This  was  cheering.  It  showed  that 
neighborly  kindness  and  true  manhood  had  not  perished 
in  the  panic;  that  what  was  noblest  and  best  in  those 
who  disagreed  so  radically  on  great  questions  of  state 
policy,  stretched  itself  over  all  their  differences  like  a 
rainbow  on  the  clouds  of  a  passing  storm. 

But  hundreds  of  our  fellow-citizens  were  still  in  the 
places  to  which  they  had  so  hurriedly  fled.  On  Monday 
most  of  them  heard  that  no  ruthless  enemy  had  wrapped 
their  dwellings  in  flames  and  slaughtered  the  defenceless; 
that  the  current  of  affairs  in  their  beloved  city  was 
flowing  on  unimpeded  and  unruffled.  By  Tuesday  a 
large  number  of  them  had  quietly  returned  to  their 
homes,  and  by  the  end  of  the  week  even  those  that 
sought  refuge  in  distant  cities  shamefacedly  came  back. 
Unannoyed  they  resumed  their  duties.  Few  made  any 
curious  inquiries,  or  even  alluded  to  their  strange  and 
groundless  terror  and  ludicrous  flight.  No  event  so 
startling  and  unique  was  apparently  so  soon  and  utterly 
forgotten. 

However,  to  make  this  portrayal  of  the  panic  adequate 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation     115 

and  just,  one  more  thing  must  be  specially  noted.  While 
but  few  could  wholly  escape  its  subtle  and  awful  influ 
ence,  I  knew  of  no  Unionist,  nor  heard  of  one,  that 
through  fear  fled  from  the  city.  They  did  not  for  a 
moment  believe  that  the  loyal  Germans  intended  vio 
lence  to  anybody.  They  therefore  looked  upon  the 
scene  of  terror  enacted  before  them  with  both  amuse 
ment  and  amazement;  but  most  of  them  learned, 
probably  for  the  first  time,  how  terribly  real  to  fright 
ened  men  and  women  imaginary  evils  can  be,  and  so  for 
their  returning  secession  neighbors  they  had  only  kindly 
greetings. 

Other  stirring  events  soon  claimed  our  attention  and 
absorbed  our  thoughts.  As  soon  as  the  panic  was  over, 
General  Harney,  in  a  vigorous  proclamation,  sustained 
the  act  of  Lyon  in  taking  Camp  Jackson,  enumerating 
the  evidences  that  the  camp  was  hostile  to  the  general 
government;  denounced  the  military  bill  recently 
passed  by  the  legislature  as  an  indirect  secession  ordi 
nance,  a  nullity  and  not  at  all  to  be  obeyed  by  the 
people  of  the  State;  declared  that  all  the  power  of  the 
United  States  would  be  used  to  maintain  its  supreme 
authority,  and  that  "  no  subterfuges,  whether  in  the 
form  of  legislative  acts  or  otherwise,  can  be  permitted 
to  harass  or  oppress  the  good  and  law-abiding  people 
of  Missouri." 

This  manifesto  of  the  commanding  general  was  a 
genuine  surprise  both  to  the  secessionists  and  Unionists. 
Up  to  this  time  the  former  had  regarded  him  as  a 
moderate  Unionist,  whose  hesitancy  and  vacillation 
enabled  them  to  plot  almost  unmolested  against  the 
general  government;  while  the  latter  had  at  times 
even  doubted  his  loyalty  to  the  Union.  But  now  both 
parties  saw  the  real  sentiment  of  his  heart.  On  account 


116        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

of  it  the  secessionists  were  quite  dispirited.  The  Mis 
souri  Republican,  a  semi-secession,  Democrat  paper,  the 
next  morning  gave  voice  to  their  disappointment  by 
saying, "  We  are  bound  hand  and  foot;  chained  down  by 
a  merciless  tyranny;  are  subjected  and  shackled."  1 

But  on  all  sides  men  were  now  asking,  "  Will  the 
general  by  act  make  good  the  words  of  his  proclama 
tion?  "  He  did  not  leave  them  long  in  doubt.  His 
conclusive  reasoning  evidently  was  that  if,  for  the  pro 
tection  of  loyal  citizens,  it  was  necessary  to  capture 
Camp  Jackson,  it  was  equally  necessary  to  break  up  all 
other  places  where  the  disloyal  were  gathering  means 
which,  at  the  opportune  moment,  they  might  use  to 
secure  the  secession  of  the  State.  So,  on  the  17th  of 
May,  just  five  days  after  the  panic,  in  order  "  to  preserve 
the  peace  of  St.  Louis  and  promote  the  tranquillity  of 
Missouri,"  warrants  were  issued  by  the  Federal  Court 
for  the  search  of  all  places  within  our  city  suspected 
of  harboring  articles  contraband  of  war.  With  these 
warrants  in  hand,  United  States  Marshal  Rawlings, 
accompanied  by  a  squad  of  Federal  soldiers,  under  the 
command  of  Captain  Sweeney,  proceeded  to  the  State 
Tobacco  Warehouse  on  Washington  Avenue,  and  to 
the  Central  Metropolitan  Police  Station  on  Chestnut 
Street.2  Both  of  these  places  were  dominated  and 
controlled  by  secessionists.  In  the  latter  gathered 
those  police  commissioners,  who  were  appointed  by 
the  Governor,  and  reflected  his  notions  and  policies. 
At  the  Warehouse  were  found  several  hundred  rifles, 
muskets,  cavalry  pistols,  holsters,  and  small  boxes  of 
ammunition;  and  at  the  Police  Station  two  pieces  of 
cannon  and  many  rifles.  The  marshal  took  possession 

'Sriead,  The  Fight  for  Missouri,  p.  179. 

2  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  D.  of  E.,  Vol.  I,  p.  92. 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation     117 

of  this  war  material,  and  the  accompanying  soldiers 
captured  all  the  aiders  and  abettors  of  treason  found 
in  these  nests  of  disloyalty.  We  all  now  saw  that 
General  Harney  was  acting  up  to  his  brave  and  true 
words,  and  that  the  judges  and  officers  of  the  United 
States  courts  wrere  intent  on  recovering,  so  far  as 
possible,  the  stolen  property  of  the  general  government; 
that  both  the  civil  and  military  powers  wrere  joining 
hands  in  enforcing  the  law  and  in  suppressing  secession 
and  revolt. 

But  very  soon  after  this  exhibition  of  energy  and 
loyalty  on  the  part  of  Harney,  anxious  to  preserve  the 
peace  of  his  beloved  Missouri,  on  the  21st  of  May,  just 
four  days  after  the  search  and  seizure  narrated  above, 
he  entered  into  a  formal  agreement  with  Price,1  then 
the  major-general  of  the  Missouri  militia,  in  which  he 
committed  the  whole  military  care  of  the  State  to  the 
latter,  binding  himself  not  to  use  United  States  troops 
in  Missouri  for  the  suppression  of  disorder  or  the  defence 
of  any  of  its  inhabitants,  unless  asked  to  do  so  by  the 
State  authorities.  In  short  he  covenanted  to  abandon 
utterly  all  initiative  in  military  operations  within  our 
commonwealth,  and  to  subject  himself  to  the  lead  of  the 
commander  of  the  State  militia.  This  agreement 
pledged  the  Federal  government  to  uphold  in  the  most 
practical  fashion  the  doctrine  of  State  sovereignty; 
it  sustained  the  very  thing  which  the  United  States 
was  marshalling  its  armies  to  oppose  and  if  possible  to 
crush  out  forever.  Over  this  ill-starred  covenant  with 
our  enemies,  every  Unionist  of  St.  Louis  and  Missouri 
was  sick  at  heart.  Such  an  agreement  carried  out 
would  have  been  the  death-blow  to  all  loyalty  through- 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  I,  p.  363.     Also  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol. 
Ill,  pp.  374-81,  383. 


118        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

out  the  State.  The  Unionists  of  St.  Louis  wondered 
how  a  general,  who  had  been  so  outspoken  against 
disunionism  a  few  days  before,  could  be  so  hoodwinked 
as  to  enter  into  a  solemn  compact  by  which  he  permitted 
the  enemy  of  his  country  to  bind  him  hand  and  foot. 
As  he  ought  to  have  expected,  the  government  which 
he  had  so  utterly  misrepresented  in  this  strange  compact 
with  Price  promptly  removed  him  from  his  command, 
and  put  in  his  place  Lyon,  who  a  few  days  before  had 
been  made  brigadier-general. 

Lyon  took  hold  of  his  new  duties  with  a  will.  In  the 
latter  part  of  May,  by  his  order,  the  steamer  "  J.  C.  Swan  " 
was  seized  at  Harlow's  Landing,  about  thirty  miles 
below  the  city,  and  brought  up  to  the  St.  Louis  Arsenal.1 
This  was  the  boat  that  surreptitiously  brought  from 
Baton  Rouge  the  arms  that  were  captured  at  Camp 
Jackson.  By  due  process  of  law  she  was  confiscated 
and  put  into  the  service  of  the  Union.  But  nothing 
escaped  the  eagle  eye  of  the  Yankee  general  at  the 
Arsenal.  He  seemed  intuitively  to  apprehend  the  de 
signs  and  movements  of  the  Confederates.  So  while  with 
one  hand  he  seized  this  recreant  steamer,  with  the  other 
he  intercepted  at  Ironton,  on  the  Iron  Mountain  Rail 
road,  several  tons  of  lead  en  route  for  the  South.  A 
party  of  secessionists  resisted  the  military  force  sent  to 
make  this  capture,  some  shots  were  fired,  but  happily 
no  blood  was  shed.  That  lead  was  diverted  from  the 
Southern  Confederacy.  Lyon  saw  to  it  that  it  was 
shot  not  at  Union  men,  but  by  them  at  the  enemies 
of  the  Union. 

The  exportation  of  lead  from  Missouri  was  one  of  the 
cherished  plans  of  the  Southern  malcontents.  As  early 
as  May  1st,  1861,  Samuel  Tate,  writing  from  Charleston, 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  I,  IX  of  E.,  p.  76. 


Riot,  Panic,  Search  and  Confiscation    119 

South  Carolina,  to  the  Hon.  A.  M.  Clayton  of  Montgom 
ery,  Alabama,  pressed  upon  his  attention  the  impor 
tance  of  keeping  Missouri  under  the  control  of  the 
Confederacy.  Without  her,  he  urged,  the  last  hope 
would  be  cut  off  "for  a  full  supply  of  provisions  and 
lead."  l  He  said,  "  Governor  Jackson  is  with  us.  His 
people  are  with  us,  except  at  St.  Louis,  where  they 
are  divided.  The  first  thing  we  know,  we  shall  be  out 
of  powder,  lead  and  percussion  caps."  So,  early  in 
the  war,  one  clear-headed  man,  south  of  Mason  and 
Dixon's  line,  understood  our  Governor,  and  saw  what  an 
important  storehouse  for  the  rebel  armies  Missouri 
would  be,  and  insisted  that  no  effort  should  be  spared 
to  unite  her  destiny  with  that  of  the  Confederacy.  But 
Lyon  had  otherwise  determined;  and  during  that  ever 
memorable  month  of  May,  mainly  through  his  initiative 
and  under  his  direction,  the  most  startling  events 
followed  each  other  in  rapid  succession.  Camp  Jackson 
was  taken ;  the  rebel  flags  were  lowered ;  nests  of  seces 
sionists  were  broken  up  and  their  arms,  gathered  with 
hostile  intent,  were  captured;  a  treacherous  steamboat 
was  seized  and  confiscated;  a  train  of  cars  laden  with 
lead  for  the  Southern  Confederacy  was  intercepted. 
At  that  early  stage  of  the  war,  all  these  things  were 
surpassingly  strange  to  us,  and  by  them  for  weeks  the 
whole  city  was  kept  bubbling  with  excitement. 

*W.  R.  S.  4,  Vol.  I,  p.  276. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  PULPIT  AND  THE  PRESS 

BEFORE  the  war  of  the  rebellion,  the  pulpit  had  ably 
discussed  in  all  of  its  aspects  the  question  of  slavery. 
And  as  the  mighty  conflict  for  the  preservation  of  the 
Union  was  approaching,  all  the  vast  issues  wrapped  up 
in  it  were  handled  with  rare  skill  by  distinguished 
preachers  both  of  the  North  and  the  South.  But 
since  in  St.  Louis  Christian  ministers  holding  opposite 
views  on  the  great  national  questions  of  slavery  and 
secession  stood  face  to  face,  for  a  time  they  refrained 
from  speaking  upon  them  publicly.  They  were  not 
silent  from  cowardice;  so  far  from  that,  it  required 
no  small  degree  of  self-control  to  hold  their  peace.  They 
shut  their  lips  lest  by  speaking  they  should  unneces 
sarily  disturb  the  peace  of  the  community. 

Moreover,  many  a  pastor,  out  of  tender  regard  for  the 
members  of  his  church  and  congregation,  for  some 
months  at  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War  refused  to 
discuss  in  his  pulpit  the  question  of  the  hour.  Unless, 
in  his  judgment,  the  public  good  imperatively  demanded 
it,  he  felt  unwilling  to  wound  the  feelings  of  Christian 
friends  and  split  his  church  into  hostile  parties  by 
openly  proclaiming  his  patriotic  convictions.  Nor 
should  we  fail  to  note  that  most  of  the  preachers  of  the 
city  rightly  felt  that  their  work  primarily  was  distinctively 
spiritual,  rather  than  political;  that  however  sacred 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  121 

might  be  their  duty  to  their  country,  there  were  duties 
still  higher  and  still  more  sacred.  They  were  also  per 
suaded  that  they  should,  so  far  as  in  them  lay,  calm 
the  public  mind  rather  than  agitate  it ;  should  strengthen 
reason  and  cool  passion;  promote  love  and  discourage 
hatred  and  revenge.  Accordingly,  such  men  as  Eliot 
of  the  Unitarians,  Post  of  the  Congregationalists,  Nelson 
of  the  Presbyterians,  Schuyler  of  the  Episcopalians,  the 
staunchest  of  Union  men,  and  each  of  them  a  tower  of 
strength  in  the  city,  seeking  to  do  the  largest  possible 
good  in  a  community  divided  and  torn  by  antagonistic 
political  doctrines,  for  a  season  refrained  from  giving 
public  utterance  to  their  Union  sentiments.  When, 
however,  they  did  speak,  they  boldly  discussed  with 
great  ability  and  thoroughness  the  duties  which  citizens 
owe  to  the  State. 

During  the  winter  of  1860-61  there  was  but  one 
clergyman  in  the  city,  who  publicly  spoke  upon  the 
great  national  issue,  and  he  was  a  pronounced  and 
prominent  secessionist,  or,  which  was  the  same  thing 
under  a  different  label,  a  conditional  Unionist.  And 
strange  to  say,  this  good  Presbyterian  brother  regarded 
the  introduction  of  politics  into  the  pulpit  with  holy 
horror;  at  all  events  he  thought  that  his  brethren  in 
the  ministry  should  refrain  from  discussing  in  the  house 
of  God  disturbing  political  problems;  nevertheless,  he, 
in  an  elaborate  discourse,  on  the  Lord's  Day,  set  forth 
in  his  pulpit,  "  The  Ultimatum  of  the  South."  But 
our  ministerial  brother  apparently  failed  to  see  that 
"  wherein  he  judged  another  he  condemned  himself." 
He  not  only  preached  a  political  sermon,  but  published 
it  in  pamphlet  form,  and  did  what  he  could  to  scatter 
copies  of  it  all  over  the  State.  So  he  was  not  after 
all  really  opposed  to  preaching  politics,  but  to  preaching 


122        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

politics  that  antagonized  his  own  cherished  political 
views.  Not  his  own,  but  his  opponent's  politics  de 
graded  the  pulpit. 

Since,  however,  it  is  my  purpose  to  present  in  these 
pages  not  only  my  observations  of  others,  but  also  my 
own  experiences,  I  trust  that  it  will  not  be  regarded 
as  egotistical  and  indelicate  on  my  part,  if  I  carefully 
portray  some  scenes  in  which  I  was  called  to  be  an  actor. 
From  1858  to  1866  I  was  pastor  of  the  Second  Baptist 
Church  of  St.  Louis  and  preached  at  the  corner  of  Sixth 
and  Locust  Streets,  in  a  plain,  steepleless,  brick  meeting 
house,  painted  lead  color.  The  membership  of  the  church 
was  five  or  six  hundred,  and  for  three  years  of  my  pasto 
rate,  the  men  outnumbered  the  women.  The  church 
contained  an  unusual  number  of  able,  aggressive  young 
men.  In  the  congregation  the  rich  and  the  poor  sat 
side  by  side.  All  walks  and  pursuits  of  life  were  there 
represented.  In  the  pews  were  a  goodly  number  of 
lawyers,  some  of  them  among  the  ablest  advocates 
and  counsellors  in  the  State.  One  of  them,  James  0. 
Broadhead,  not  a  Baptist,  a  member  of  the  Union 
Safety  Committee,  was  a  man  of  conspicuous  ability. 
He  was  a  native  of  Virginia,  liberal-minded,  conserva 
tive,  clear-headed.  He  was  an  ardent  patriot  without 
fanaticism.  While  instinctively  shrinking  from  all 
extreme  positions  on  the  vexed  political  questions  of 
the  hour,  he  was  unswervingly  loyal  to  the  Union.  In 
those  dark  tempestuous  days,  he  stood  like  a  granite 
rock  amid  the  swirling  waves  of  passion. 

Moreover,  in  the  congregation,  and  also  in  the  mem 
bership  of  the  church,  was  William  M.  McPherson.  He 
came  from  the  poor  whites  of  Kentucky.  What  he  was 
he  owed  largely  to  a  godly  mother.  Amid  great  dis 
advantages  he  secured  the  rudiments  of  an  English 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  123 

education.  He  then  studied  law  at  night,  in  his  humble 
Kentucky  home,  by  the  light  of  flaming  pine  knots.  He 
also  taught  a  country  school  to  put  an  honest  penny  into 
his  empty  purse.  While  yet  in  the  beginning  of  his  pro 
fessional  career  as  a  lawyer,  he  came  to  St.  Louis.  He 
there  at  one  time  filled  the  office  of  United  States  attor 
ney.  Out  of  tender  remembrance  of  his  mother,  and 
a  sacred  promise  that  he  made  her,  he  regularly  attended 
church.  He  became  a  Christian.  During  my  pastorate, 
out  of  choice  he  was  an  usher  in  the  middle  aisle,  and 
none  that  received  his  attentions  could  ever  forget  the 
gracious  kindliness  of  his  manner.  But  back  of  his 
marked  benevolence  of  spirit  lay  immense  power  of 
wilL  When  he  laid  his  hand  to  a  work  within  or  without 
the  church,  if  human  energy  could  accomplish  it,  it 
was  quickly  done.  He  was  passionately  devoted  both 
to  his  city  and  his  country.  In  the  darkest  days  of  the 
war,  he  was  as  true  to  the  Old  Flag  as  the  needle  to  the 
pole.  To  preach  to  him  and  others  of  like  spirit  was  an 
inspiration. 

In  my  church  were  seven  deacons,  all  of  them  loyal 
to  the  Federal  government.  Of  some  of  them  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  speak  in  another  connection.  But  one 
of  them,  Daniel  J.  Hancock,  a  Gibraltar  of  strength 
to  his  pastor,  I  refer  to  here,  on  account  of  an  interesting 
incident  in  connection  with  the  public  mention  of  his 
name.  General  Hancock,  who  in  the  Civil  War  acquired 
a  world-wide  military  fame,  spent  the  winter  of  1860-61 
in  St.  Louis.  His  father,  who  was  a  deacon  of  a  Baptist 
church  in  Pennsylvania,  paid  him  a  visit.  One  Sunday 
morning  they  both  worshipped  with  us.  Before  the 
sermon  a  collection  was  to  be  taken  for  some  special 
object.  I  said,  "  Will  Deacon  Pratt  and  Deacon  Han 
cock  pass  the  contribution  boxes?  "  General  Hancock's 


124        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

father,  not  knowing  that  there  was  a  Deacon  Hancock 
in  my  church,  was  on  his  feet  in  a  moment,  ready  to  do 
the  duty  asked.  The  general,  pulling  his  father's  coat- 
tail,  said  to  him  in  a  whisper,  "  There  is  a  Deacon  Han 
cock  in  this  church."  Was  not  the  general's  readiness 
for  any  duty  on  the  battle-field  in  large  measure  an 
inheritance? 

As  the  winter  wore  away,  and  in  turn  spring  and 
summer  came,  military  officers  in  constantly  increasing 
numbers  appeared  in  the  congregation.  I  very  distinctly 
remember  General  Sumner.  Every  Sunday  night  for 
two  or  three  months,  he  sat  to  my  right  near  the  pulpit. 
Being  slightly  deaf,  he  got  as  near  as  he  could  to  the 
speaker.  He  was  tall  and  graceful  in  form  and  move 
ment,  a  man  who  would  attract  attention  even  in  a 
crowd.  He  was  afterwards  conspicuous  in  the  great 
battles  of  Fair  Oaks,  Antietarn  and  Fredericksburg. 

What  I  have  now  said  may  suggest  with  some  dis 
tinctness  the  circumstances  under  which  I  performed 
my  pulpit  ministrations.  But  I  was  full  of  unrest  be 
cause  I  had  not  spoken  concerning  the  duties  that  we 
all  sacredly  owed  to  our  country.  I  felt  that  sooner 
or  later  every  man,  who  had  any  influence  whatsoever, 
regardless  of  his  surroundings,  must  speak  out  boldly 
on  the  great  national  issue.  This  conviction  was  re- 
enforced  by  two  distasteful  incidents  thrust  upon  my 
attention.  The  first  was  this.  At  the  Sunday  morning 
service  I  usually  prayed  for  the  President  and  his 
advisers.  So  long  as  Mr.  Buchanan  was  in  office  this 
appeared  to  be  agreeable  to  all;  but  no  sooner  was  Mr. 
Lincoln  inaugurated  than  some  began  to  object  to  this 
part  of  my  prayer.  In  private  conversation  they  gave 
free  expression  to  their  resentment.  The  congregation 
was  divided  on  the  question,  Among  themselves  they 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  125 

warmly  debated  it.  No  one  as  yet  had  uttered  his  pro 
test  to  me.  But  I  had  heard  of  the  strenuous  objection 
urged  against  my  petition  for  our  Chief  Magistrate. 
Believing,  however,  that  I  was  discharging  a  sacred 
duty,  a  duty  positively  enjoined  in  Scripture,  I  kept 
right  on  praying  publicly  for  the  President.  There  was 
as  yet  no  sign  of  yielding  on  either  side.  Relations  were 
already  strained,  if  not  wrenched.  Something  must 
be  done,  so,  at  least,  thought  the  opposition  forces.  They 
got  together  and  requested  William  M.  McPherson,  on 
their  behalf,  to  talk  the  matter  over  with  me.  While  he 
had  no  sympathy  with  their  opposition,  in  order  that  he 
might  do  something  in  the  interest  of  harmony  in  the 
church,  he  consented  to  lay  their  grievance  before  me. 
He  invited  me  to  meet  him  at  his  business  office,  that 
our  interview  might  be  strictly  private.  Since  I  had  no 
truer  friend,  I  gladly  responded  to  his  courteous  request. 
When  we  met  he  at  once  said:  "A  considerable  number 
of  the  church  and  congregation  have  sent  to  you  through 
me  an  earnest  petition  that  in  the  future  you  should 
forego  praying  publicly  for  the  President.  And  they 
have  asked  me  to  induce  you,  if  I  can,  to  grant  their 
desire."  I  replied:  "Such  prayer  is  no  new  thing  in 
my  pulpit  ministrations.  I  prayed  for  Mr.  Buchanan 
and  no  one  objected  to  that;  and  I  do  not  see  why 
any  one  should  now  object  to  my  praying  for  Mr, 
Lincoln."  "Ah!  "  he  answered,  "that  is  just  the  sore 
point;  they  think  that  praying  for  Lincoln  is  partisan, 
that  it  is  praying  against  the  South;  and  can't  you  for 
the  sake  of  peace  forego  it?  "  I  responded,  "If  Lincoln 
is  as  bad  as  they  say  he  is,  I  am  sure  that  both  I  and  they 
ought  to  pray  for  him;  he  needs  our  prayers.  Moreover, 
be  so  kind  as  to  say  to  your  brethren  and  mine,  that 
according  to  the  Protestant  idea,  prayer  is  indited  by 


126        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

the  Holy  Spirit;  and  if  the  Holy  Spirit  leads  me  to  pray 
publicly  for  the  President,  I  must  do  it  even  though  it 
may  be  disagreeable  to  my  fellow  men." 

My  reply  seemed  to  please  him,  and  he  said:  "Shall  I 
say  that  that  is  your  message  to  them?  "  "  Certainly," 
said  I,  and  our  interview  thus  ended  very  pleasantly; 
but  as  I  went  towards  my  home,  I  became  more  posi 
tively  convinced  than  ever,  that  all  true  men  holding 
positions  of  trust  in  the  city  would  soon  be  compelled 
to  speak  out  with  no  uncertain  accent  on  the  question 
that  was  threatening  to  disrupt  the  Union.  When  the 
pews  in  opposition  to  good  government  go  so  far  as 
to  attempt  to  dictate  the  prayers  of  the  pulpit  and  to 
repress  all  petitions  for  the  President,  the  pulpit  must 
either  become  subject  to  the  pews,  or  squarely  assert 
and  defend  its  independence. 

The  second  incident,  constantly  rankling  like  a  thorn 
in  my  side,  was  the  secession  flag,  already  mentioned 
in  a  previous  chapter.  It  fluttered  over  Sixth  Street, 
about  half  a  square  from  my  church.  Going  to  and  fro 
in  the  discharge  of  my  duties,  I  was  compelled  to  pass 
beneath  it.  With  many  others,  I  wondered  why  the 
military  authorities  did  not  take  it  down  by  force. 
I  did  not  then  know,  what  all  learned  later,  that  just 
at  that  time  they  were  in  pursuit  of  larger  game;  that 
they  were  planning  to  strike  at  the  centre  of  secession 
in  our  city,  and  so  for  the  moment  were  wisely  ignoring 
its  incidental  manifestations.  But  I  had  reached  the 
limit  of  my  patience,  and  could  no  longer  mutely  endure 
the  flaunting  of  disloyalty.  A  fire  was  fiercely  burning 
within  my  bones,  I  felt  that  it  must  have  vent,  or  I 
should  be  consumed. 

It  was  nineteen  days  before  the  taking  of  Camp 
Jackson.  Sunday,  April  21st,  dawned.  It  was  a  warm 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  127 

bright  day.  My  morning  audience  was  large  and  atten 
tive,  but  I  was  far  from  being  happy.  Back  of  the 
morning  message  there  was  another  flaming  in  my 
soul  for  expression.  No  one  yet  knew  what  I  contem 
plated  doing  in  the  evening.  In  the  afternoon  I  met 
on  the  street  one  of  my  good  deacons  and  made  known 
to  him  my  intention.  Although  a  pronounced  Unionist, 
for  the  sake  of  peace  in  the  church  and  congregation  he 
tried  to  turn  me  from  my  purpose;  but  when  he  found 
that  my  mind  was  fully  made  up,  he  said,  "Well,  if 
you  must  preach  on  secession,  give  them  a  12-inch 
columbiad."  He  had  evidently  overestimated  the  size 
of  my  gun,  but  such  as  I  had,  it  was  my  fixed  purpose 
to  fire. 

The  evening  came.  The  sky  was  clear.  It  was  neither 
hot  nor  cold.  The  balmy  air  of  spring  enticed  people 
from  their  houses.  The  church  was  unusually  well-filled, 
and  my  secession  friends  were  present  in  large  numbers. 
I  read  for  the  Scripture  lesson  the  13th  chapter  of 
Romans,  in  which  Paul  teaches  the  duty  of  obedience 
to  established  government.  Those  in  the  pews  listened 
with  almost  breathless  interest  to  the  words  of  the  great 
Apostle.  But  while  I  read,  two  deacons  of  the  church, 
who  had  been  engaged  in  seating  the  congregation, 
standing  under  the  gallery,  between  the  doors  of  en 
trance  to  the  audience  room,  had  this  suggestive  colloquy. 
Both  of  them  were  unconditional  Union  men;  but  one 
of  them,  formerly  a  citizen  of  Massachusetts,  nervously 
anxious  to  keep  the  peace,  said  to  the  other,  who  had 
once  lived  in  Maryland,  and  afterwards  in  Indiana, 
"  I  hope  the  pastor  is  not  going  to  preach  to-night 
from  any  text  in  that  chapter."  His  associate  in  office 
replied,  "  Aren't  you  willing  that  your  pastor  should 
take  his  text  from  any  portion  of  the  Word  of  God?  " 


128       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

He  responded,  "I  ought  to  say  yes,  but  I  confess  that 
in  the  present  circumstances  I  can't."  Considering  the 
sections  of  the  Republic  from  which  these  gentlemen 
hailed,  we  should  naturally  have  thought  that  their 
respective  attitudes  would  have  been  the  exact  reverse. 
We  should  have  looked  for  unyielding  grit  in  the  New 
Englander,  and  for  pliancy  in  the  Marylander.  But 
happily  in  our  country  geography  does  not  determine 
character,  and  this  incident  shows  how  two  good  men 
and  true  in  St.  Louis,  in  those  dark  days,  were  divided 
as  to  the  line  of  action  that  should  be  taken  to  secure 
what  they  mutually  and  earnestly  desired. 

But  the  service  moved  on.  The  very  air  seemed 
tremulous,  with  excitement.  While  singing  the  hymn 
immediately  before  the  sermon,  anxious  expectation 
was  depicted  on  the  faces  of  the  audience.  I  announced 
as  my  text  Romans,  the  13th  chapter,  the  1st  and  2nd 
verses:  "Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the  higher 
powers.  For  there  is  no  power  but  of  God :  the  powers 
that  be  are  ordained  by  God.  Whosoever  therefore 
resisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God :  and 
they  that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves  damnation." 

When  I  began  to  speak  such  a  hush  fell  upon  the  con 
gregation,  that  at  the  pauses  between  the  sentences, 
I  could  hear  the  flicker  of  the  gas.  A  large  bronze-faced 
man,  a  stranger,  had  been  seated  near  the  centre  of 
the  audience-room,  in  the  end  of  a  pew,  that  opened 
into  the  middle  aisle,  so  that  he  was  directly  before  me. 
My  eye  instinctively  turned  to  him  and  at  times  seemed 
to  be  riveted  upon  him.  I  thought  that  he  must  be  the 
deacon  of  some  Baptist  church  back  in  the  State.  At 
first  he  was  restless,  and  frequently  changed  his  position; 
so  I  concluded  that  he  was  a  secessionist  and  did  not 
like  what  I  was  saying.  But  when  I  was  a  little  more 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  129 

than  half  way  through  my  discourse,  he  cried  out,  so 
that  all  in  the  house  heard  him,  "Amen,"  making  the  a 
long  and  emphatic.  My  wrong  impression  of  him  was 
at  once  corrected.  He  was,  as  I  had  surmised,  a  Baptist 
deacon,  but  from  Illinois,  not  from  Missouri,  and  his 
hearty  "amen"  added  to  the  already  intense  excite 
ment  of  the  congregation.  The  sudden  consciousness 
of  having  in  him  an  ally  instead  of  an  enemy  gave  me 
a  new  sense  of  freedom,  and  I  preached  on  with  more  than 
my  usual  ease  and  fervor,  closing  with  these  words: 
"  I  wish  to  bear  my  own  individual  testimony,  to  express 
the  feelings  of  my  heart.  I  love  my  country  -  -  I  love 
the  government  of  my  country  —  I  love  the  freedom 
of  my  country.  It  was  purchased  by  the  blood  of  our 
fathers,  and  when  I  become  so  base,  so  cowardly,  so 
besotted  that  I  dare  not  speak  out  in  behalf  of  that  for 
which  they  so  bravely  fought,  I  pray  that  my  tongue 
may  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth. 

"  But,  brethren,  we  need  have  no  fears  as  to  the  ulti 
mate  issue.  The  Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth.  In 
this  conflict  your  property  may  be  swept  away,  and  all 
may  be  reduced  to  a  common  level.  Your  life  and  mine 
may  be  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  our  country,  yet 
Jehovah,  who  presides  over  the  scene,  will  bring  the 
nation  forth  from  the  ordeal  wiser,  purer,  nobler.  If 
the  scythe  of  rebellion  is  swung  over  our  whole  land, 
mowing  down  all  of  our  free  institutions,  leave  us  the 
Christian  family,  the  Christian  Church,  and  the  time- 
honored  Bible,  and  in  the  track  of  the  destroyer,  they  will 
spring  up  with  new  life,  new  power,  and  new  glory, 
'The  Lord  reigneth:  let  the  earth  rejoice:  let  the 
multitude  of  isles  be  glad  thereof/  ' 

For  the  last  hymn  I  gave  out  "  My  country,  'tis  of 
thee."  I  am  quite  sure  that  it  had  not  been  sung  for 


130        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

many  months  in  St.  Louis;  at  all  events,  as  a  congrega 
tion,  we  had  refrained  from  singing  it  lest  somebody 
might  be  offended  by  it.  My  secession  friends  did  not 
even  deign  to  open  their  hymn-books,  but  stood  dumb 
while  we  sang.  But  compensations  for  their  silence 
had  been  providentially  provided.  A  part  of  a  congre 
gation  of  loyal  Methodists,  passing  our  house  of  worship 
on  the  way  home  from  their  evening  service,  had  crowded 
into  the  vestibule,  and  listened  to  the  close  of  my 
discourse;  lingering  there,  they  sang  the  national  hymn 
as  only  Methodists  can.  Also  a  band  of  loyal  Unitarians 
going  along  Locust  Street  by  the  church  just  as  we  began 
to  sing,  stood  on  the  sidewalk,  under  the  open  windows, 
and  sang  with  fervor.  Half  a  square  away  a  gentleman, 
sitting  in  his  parlor  with  its  windows  shut,  heard  our 
patriotic  song  and  was  glad. 

At  the  close  of  the  service,  a  stranger  unceremoniously 
approached  me,  and  with  some  excitement  of  manner 
asked,  "  Do  you  expect  to  remain  in  the  city?  "  I 
assured  him  that  I  did,  but  that  it  was  a  matter  of  indif 
ference  to  me  whether  I  did  or  not.  Expressing  the 
opinion  that  the  people  of  the  city  would  not  permit 
me  to  remain,  he  disappeared  in  the  departing  crowd. 
Who  he  was,  whence  he  came  and  whither  he  went, 
I  knew  not.  From  my  own  soul  a  burden  had  been 
lifted.  As  well  as  I  could,  I  had  spoken  on  behalf  of 
our  country.  My  mistake  was  that  I  had  not  spoken 
sooner.  With  a  light  heart  I  went  back  to  my  home 
and  slept. 

I  must  now  mention  what  was  to  me  an  exceedingly 
important  event,  to  which  on  account  of  its  sacredness 
I  should  make  no  allusion  if  it  were  not  intertwined 
with  an  incident  which  sets  in  a  startling  light  the 
determination  of  not  a  few  in  St.  Louis  at  that  time  to 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  131 

suppress,  even  by  brute  force,  freedom  of  speech.  Two 
days  after  the  delivery  of  my  sermon  on  "  The  Duty  of 
Obedience  to  Established  Government,"  profoundly 
believing  in  the  Union,  I  was  married.  But  our  city 
was  so  agitated  and  divided,  that  it  was  deemed  best  both 
by  my  bride  and  myself  to  make  but  a  short  wedding 
trip.  We  thought  that  we  should  not  be  long  absent 
from  pressing  duties  at  home.  So  we  went  no  farther 
than  Cincinnati.  We  left  behind  us  a  flagless  city;  but 
when  we  reached  the  great  city  on  the  Ohio,  it  was  just 
one  gorgeous  bouquet  of  national  banners.  The  exhilara 
tion  and  ecstasy  of  that  scene  no  words  can  express. 
The  remembered  experience,  the  patriotic  exultation 
of  that  hour,  lingers  like  undimmed  sunshine  in  my  soul. 
W^e  remained  in  Cincinnati  over  the  following  Sunday. 
By  a  happy  prearrangement,  the  young  and  eloquent 
Irish  preacher  of  Quincy,  Illinois,  Rev.  H.  M.  Gallaher, 
supplied  my  pulpit.  As  he  began  the  evening  service, 
a  turbulent  crowd  gathered  on  Sixth  and  Locust  Streets, 
in  front  and  by  the  side  of  the  church.  They  had  evi 
dently  come  together  to  mob  me  for  my  discourse  the 
week  before.  When  Mr.  Gallaher  was  offering  prayer 
before  the  sermon,  some  one  of  the  crowd  on  Locust 
Street  hurled  a  brickbat  through  the  window,  immedi 
ately  to  the  left  of  the  pulpit;  the  great  window-pane 
was  shivered  in  pieces,  but  the  missile  aimed  at  the 
preacher  happily  failed  to  reach  its  mark.  It  was  caught 
by  a  Venetian  blind  and  fell  harmless  to  the  floor.  In 
spite  of  the  sudden,  unexpected  crash,  the  plucky 
Irishman  prayed  on  as  though  nothing  had  happened, 
and  his  cool  persistence  probably  averted  further  dis 
aster.  My  marriage  had  been  a  private  one.  Only  a  few 
intimate  friends  had  witnessed  it.  Nobody  had  adver 
tised  it;  so  those  intent  on  executing  mob  law  upon  me 


132        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

quite  naturally  supposed  that  I  was  in  my  pulpit.  But, 
for  some  unknown  reason,  somebody  in  that  vengeful 
throng  began  to  suspect  that  their  coveted  game  had 
slipped  through  their  toils.  While  the  fearless  preacher 
in  the  pulpit  continued  to  pray  in  apparent  oblivion 
to  splintering  glass  arid  a  falling,  resounding  brickbat, 
two  men  from  the  mob  without,  pushing  partly  open 
one  of  the  doors  of  the  audience  room,  intently  watched 
him.  They  evidently  became  satisfied  before  he  closed 
his  prayer  that  the  object  of  their  malice  had  in  some 
way  eluded  them.  They  reported  to  the  noisy,  angry 
crowd  in  the  street.  The  clamor  gradually  subsided. 
There  followed  for  a  few  minutes  a  murmur  of  voices, 
then  the  disappointed  multitude  little  by  little  melted 
away. 

This  menacing  event  greatly  disturbed  the  officers 
of  my  church.  Knowing  the  train  on  which  we  were 
returning  to  St.  Louis,  several  of  them  came  to  greet 
us  and  tell  us  of  the  mob.  They  feared  that  it  might 
gather  again  to  carry  out  its  fell  purpose,  and  anxiously 
asked  what  line  of  action  would  be  wisest  and  best? 
In  a  moment  I  decided  what  I  should  do.  I  told  them 
that  those  who  did  not  hear  my  sermon,  but  had  learned 
of  it  merely  from  flying  rumor,  had  exaggerated  and 
false  notions  concerning  it;  that  they  had  unquestion 
ably  misconceived  its  spirit;  that  I  would  at  once  write 
it  out,  just  as  I  had  uttered  it  in  the  pulpit,  and  print 
it  in  The  Missouri  Republican;  that  that  journal  of 
doubtful  loyalty  gladly  published  articles  on  both  sides 
of  the  national  question,  and  was  very  generally  read 
by  the  secessionists;  and  that  when  those  who  were 
bent  on  mobbing  their  fellow  citizens  for  their  honestly 
expressed  political  views  should  read  it,  they  would  not 
fail  to  see  that  it  was  not  quite  as  objectionable  as 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  133 

they  supposed,  and  would  lay  aside  their  vengeful  pur 
pose. 

Those  who  had  anxiously  sought  my  counsel  approved, 
some  of  them  with  apparent  reluctance,  this  proposed 
line  of  action.  So  I  went  directly  from  the  boat  on  which 
we  were  ferried  over  the  river,  to  my  study,  sat  down 
to  my  self-appointed  task,  and  did  not  rise  until  it  was 
done.  Over  the  sermon  I  wrote  the  following  explana 
tory  and  conciliatory  note. 

"  Since  the  delivery  of  this  sermon,  on  the  evening 
of  April  21st,  its  statements  and  sentiments  have  been 
greatly  misrepresented.  While  it  was  not  prepared  for 
publication,  no  word  of  it  in  fact  having  been  written 
before  its  delivery,  at  the  suggestion  of  judicious  freinds, 
we  give  it  to  the  press,  in  order  to  correct  the  mistate- 
ments  that  have  been  made." 

I  at  once  carried  my  manuscript  to  the  editors  of 
The  Republican,  who  apparently  received  it  with  pleasure. 
The  next  day  it  was  published,  and  having  been  so 
extensively  talked  about,  it  was  widely  read.  The  effect 
of  its  publication  was  just  what  I  had  anticipated. 
The  excitement  aroused  by  the  spoken  discourse,  whose 
scope  and  spirit  had  been  greatly  misapprehended  by 
those  who  did  not  hear  it,  measurably  died  away;  but 
no  one  thereafter  doubted  where  my  pulpit  stood  on 
the  vexed  question  which  was  then  dividing  the  nation. 

The  next  Sunday  morning,  when  I  stepped  into  my 
pulpit,  I  had  before  me  one  striking  evidence  of  the 
effectiveness  of  my  patriotic  sermon.  In  one  entire  row 
of  pews,  stretching  from  the  pulpit  to  the  outer  door, 
there  were  only  three  families.  There  my  secession 
friends,  whom  I  highly  esteemed,  had  been  accustomed 
to  sit;  but  a  discourse  on  loyalty  to  the  general  govern 
ment  had  driven  them  away,  never  to  return.  That 


134        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

row  of  empty  pews  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  middle 
aisle,  but  a  Southern  brother  of  high  standing  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye  said  to  me,  "That  is  the  South  side  of 
the  house."  We  deeply  regretted  to  lose  those  who  so 
unceremoniously  left  us;  but  as  no  man  or  set  of  men 
is  indispensable,  we  went  on  prosperously  without  them. 
Their  departure  in  some  measure  strengthened  us. 
They  had  been  a  disturbing  element,  and  after  they 
had  gone,  we  had  that  power  that  flows  from  unity  of 
spirit  and  action. 

They  took  with  them  when  they  seceded  a  bright 
young  Scotchman;  but  after  an  absence  of  six  weeks, 
he  returned.  At  the  close  of  the  morning  service  he 
very  cordially  greeted  me,  and  said  in  his  broad  Scotch 
accent:  "  I  suppose  you  have  noticed  that  I  have  been 
away.  I  went  with  the  rest,  and  we  were  foolish  enough 
to  think  that  when  we  departed  the  roof  of  the  church 
would  fall  in  and  the  walls  would  fall  down;  but  every 
morning,  when  I  went  to  business,  I  looked  over  this 
way,  and  saw  that  she  still  stood,  and  so  I  thought  I 
would  come  back."  But  all  did  not  have  the  horse- 
sense  of  this  Scotchman;  only  a  few  of  the  seceders  ever 
returned,  but  others  came  to  take  their  places,  and  by 
the  following  October  the  pews  were  fuller  than  ever; 
but  many  who  sat  in  them  wore  the  shoulder-straps  of 
army  officers. 

There  was,  however,  one  sad,  yet  ludicrous,  incident, 
connected  with  my  sermon  on  "  Obedience  to  the  State," 
which  shows  that  the  brutal  spirit  of  the  mob  was  not 
wholly  extinct.  On  Locust  Street,  two  squares  west 
of  our  house  of  worship,  stood  the  Central  Presbyterian 
Church.  Its  pastor  was  Rev.  S.  J.  P.  Anderson,  D.  D. 
He  had  occupied  that  position  for  fifteen  or  twenty 
years,  and  both  on  account  of  the  length  of  his  pastorate 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  135 

and  his  acknowledged  ability  was  generally  known, 
even  among  non-churchgoers,  while  I,  having  the  same 
surname,  had  been  in  St.  Louis  not  quite  three  years. 
It  was  therefore  perfectly  natural  for  godless  outsiders 
to  attribute  to  him  my  pulpit  utterances,  which  had 
stirred  up  so  much  bad  blood.  So  they  determined  to 
chastise  him  for  what  I  had  said.  Now  he  was  a  seces 
sionist.  In  the  preceding  winter  he  had  preached  the 
sermon  to  which  we  have  already  alluded,  on  "  The 
Ultimatum  of  the  South."  While  of  course  he  would 
have  utterly  condemned  all  mob  violence,  still  the 
men  who  had  marked  him  out  for  brutal  usage  were 
in  political  fellowship  with  him.  They  watched  for  an 
opportunity  to  carry  out  their  ruthless  purpose,  and 
found  it.  He  was  accustomed,  every  Saturday  night, 
just  at  dusk,  to  go  to  the  Post-office,  at  the  corner  of 
Third  and  Pine  Streets,  to  get  his  mail.  There  was  then 
no  free  delivery.  His  assailants  hid  themselves  in  an 
alley  which  ran  into  Pine  Street,  and  as  he  was  pass 
ing  by,  threw  brickbats  at  him,  one  of  which  struck 
him  on  the  cheek,  and  knocked  him  down.  The  next 
day  his  face  was  so  swollen  and  painful  that  he  could  not 
preach.  They  aimed  at  me  and  hit  him.  They  igno- 
rantly  knocked  down  their  own  political  ally.  They 
compelled  him  to  be  my  substitute.  He  unwillingly 
suffered  in  my  stead.  He  soon  recovered,  and  I  hast 
ened  to  assure  him  of  my  deep  regret  that  he  had  been 
compelled  to  suffer  vicariously  for  me.  To  which  he  very 
naturally  replied :  "  Yes,  indeed,  I  don't  wish  to  be  mixed 
up  with  you."  Nor  did  I  wish  to  be  politically  mixed 
up  with  him,  however  useful  in  this  case  it  had  been  to 
me.  On  one  point  we  were  in  absolute  agreement,  our 
mutual  desire  not  to  be  confounded  with  each  other  in  the 
public  mind. 


136        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Two  more  incidents,  though  pertaining  wholly  to 
my  own  church  and  congregation,  are  worthy  of  notice, 
as  revealing  the  peculiar  sensitiveness  of  those  among 
whom  we  lived  and  toiled.  My  secession  brethren 
determined  if  possible  to  oust  me  from  my  pastorate; 
they  declared  that  their  opposition  to  me  was  solely 
because  I  had  introduced  politics  into  the  pulpit.  To 
carry  out  their  purpose,  they  drew  up  a  paper  setting 
forth  their  grievances,  and  urgently  praying  me  to 
resign.  They  made  an  extended  canvass  for  signatures, 
but  had  such  meagre  success  that  they  abandoned  their 
project. 

They  then  sent  a  committee  to  me,  asking  that,  inas 
much  as  I  had  fully  expressed  my  views  on  the  great 
national  issue,  I  would  hereafter  refrain  from  all  utter 
ance  on  the  subject  in  my  pulpit,  promising,  if  I  would 
enter  into  such  an  agreement,  that  they  would  resume 
their  places  and  duties  in  the  church.  But  I  assured 
them  that,  while  it  would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  yield 
to  their  wishes,  I  could  not  enter  into  any  such  compact; 
that  I  might  be  under  solemn  obligation  to  speak  again, 
and  that  I  must  not  become  a  party  to  any  bargain 
that  would  debar  me  from  doing  my  whole  duty.  My 
answer  enraged  the  chairman  of  the  committee,  and  he 
declared  that  I  wanted  "  to  kick  them  out  of  the  church." 
I  replied,  "You  will  bear  witness  that  that  is  your  lan 
guage,  not  mine.  I  should  be  glad  to  keep  you  all  in 
the  church,  and  have  you  willingly  grant  me  unrestricted 
freedom  of  speech;  but  whether  you  go  or  stay  I  cannot 
put  my  neck  under  the  yoke  that  you  have  prepared 
for  it."  With  this  interview,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
ended  their  efforts  to  drive  me  from  my  post  or  to  padlock 
my  lips. 

The  sermon  that  provoked  so  much  opposition  had  in 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  137 

itself  no  special  merit.  It  was  the  time  of  its  utterance, 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  we  were  then  living, 
that  gave  it  importance.  It  proved  to  have  been  the 
first  out  and  out  Union  sermon  preached  in  St.  Louis, 
and,  with  the  sermons  of  other  preachers  North  and 
South,  was  published  in  Moore's  Rebellion  Record. 
There  are  some  sentences  in  it  that  must  be  set  down 
both  to  the  hot  blood  of  youth  and  the  aggravation 
of  the  times;  but  at  all  events  it  was  an  utterance 
of  intense  conviction. 

But  in  our  varied  experiences  it  is  clear  that  the  good 
far  outweighed  the  bad.  There  was  more  honey  than 
gall,  more  love  than  hate,  more  self-sacrificing  toil  for 
others  than  self-seeking;  and  while  some  Christian 
pastors  were  anxious  and  harassed,  and  all  churches 
were  more  or  less  agitated  and  some  of  them  divided, 
in  the  face  of  a  common  danger,  sectarianism  for  the 
time  being  seemed  to  be  utterly  swept  away.  In  the 
loyal  churches  men  and  women,  irrespective  of  denom 
ination,  frequently  met  to  pray  for  the  Republic. 
Trinitarian  and  Unitarian,  Baptist  and  Methodist, 
Presb3^terian,  Congregationalist  and  Episcopalian  stood 
or  kneeled  side  by  side  and  poured  out  their  petitions 
to  God  for  our  distracted  city  and  country.  They 
prayed  with  special  fervency  for  the  President,  his 
Cabinet,  the  deliberating  Congress  and  gathering 
army. 

In  addition  to  the  meetings  in  the  different  churches, 
we  frequently  met  for  prayer  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning  in  one  of  the  large  halls  of  the  city.  There  were 
often  from  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand  present. 
At  the  close  of  each  devotional  hour  the  whole  congre 
gation  rose  and  simultaneously  lifting  up  their  right 
hands  repeated  in  concert,  after  the  leader  of  the  meet- 


138        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

ing,  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  government  of  the 
United  States.  During  my  life  I  have  looked  upon 
many  impressive  scenes,  but  never  upon  one  so  morally 
sublime  as  that.  At  each  repetition  of  that  oath,  the 
loyalty  of  every  one  that  took  it  with  his  hand  uplifted 
to  the  God  of  nations,  daily  grew  deeper  and  stronger. 
Every  one  thus  crowning  his  prayer  for  his  country  with 
his  oath  of  fealty  to  it  went  out  from  those  meetings 
with  a  mightier  purpose  to  do  all  within  his  power  to 
maintain  the  integrity  of  the  Union. 

There  were  many  very  peculiar  incidents  in  the 
churches,  growing  out  of  the  excitement  of  the  time, 
some  of  which  are  indelibly  impressed  upon  my  mind. 
An  eccentric  lawyer  regularly  attended  the  weekly 
prayer-meeting  of  my  church.  He  rightly  held  that  we 
should  be  specific  in  our  prayers,  and  lived  up  fully 
to  his  conviction.  He  was  very  tall,  and  while  offering 
prayer  he  usually  stood  by  a  supporting  post  and  leaned 
his  head  sidewise  against  it,  reminding  one  of  a  massive 
prop  placed  to  strengthen  a  weakening  pillar.  In  that 
unusual  attitude  of  body,  he  asked  God  with  minute 
particularity  for  the  things  that  he  desired.  When  he 
prayed  for  any  public  official  or  general  in  the  army  he 
called  him  by  name.  He  prayed  for  the  soldiers  that 
they  might  have  good  health  and  strength,  and  courage 
in  battle,  and  be  obedient  to  their  commanding  officers, 
and  that  God  would  direct  the  Minie  balls  when  they 
shot  and  make  them  effective,  that  the  enemies  of  our 
country  might  be  speedily  subdued.  Whatever  any 
one  may  think  of  such  prayers,  they  at  all  events  caught 
the  attention  of  even  the  dullest  and  waked  up  the 
sleepers. 

We  note  also  a  very  different  incident,  which  was 
still  more  indicative  of  the  feelings  which  at  that  time 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  139 

swayed  many  minds  in  our  city.  A  lady  of  my  congre 
gation  was  exceedingly  prejudiced  against  preaching 
politics,  without  having  any  clear  notion  of  what 
politics  was.  She  once  sat  immediately  before  me  when 
I  was  speaking  to  the  children  of  the  Sunday-school. 
To  illustrate  and  enforce  my  thought,  I  related  an 
incident  concerning  a  drummer-boy,  whereupon  she 
nudged  with  her  elbow  a  woman  who  sat  by  her  side, 
and  said  in  a  tone  so  loud  that  I  distinctly  heard  her, 
"  I  do  wish  the  pastor  would  let  politics  alone." 

An  excellent  Presbyterian  pastor,  with  whom  I  often 
conversed,  was  greatly  perplexed  as  to  whether  he 
should  preach  on  the  subject  of  secession.  He  was 
intensely  loyal;  but  his  church  was  not  large  and  in 
national  politics  was  apparently  about  equally  divided. 
In  determining  his  duty  he  sought  my  counsel.  I  told 
him  that,  taking  into  account  all  the  circumstances, 
he  ought  in  my  judgment  to  forego,  for  a  time  at  least, 
the  public  discussion  of  the  national  problem.  While 
he  seemed  satisfied  that  I  had  pointed  out  what  was 
wisest  for  him  to  do,  he  found  it  very  difficult  to  keep 
silent  concerning  his  country  even  for  a  season.  Pa 
triotism  burned  hotly  within  his  heart.  To  get  some 
relief  he  preached  one  Sunday  afternoon  on  Paul's 
words,  "I  have  fought  the  good  fight."  He  began  his 
sermon  by  saying,  "  There  are  then  some  fights  that 
are  good.  The  fight  against  sin  is  a  good  fight.  The 
fight  against  the  devil  is  a  good  fight."  But  just  as  he 
pronounced  the  last  sentence,  a  pew-door  flew  open 
spitefully,  and  one  of  the  ablest  women  of  his  church 
walked  excitedly  down  the  middle  aisle  and  out  of  the 
outer  door,  never  again  to  return.  Immediately  after 
the  service  he  went  to  see  her.  He  went  too  soon.  She 
had  not  had  time  to  cool;  moreover  his  prompt  visit 


140       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

tended  to  pamper  her  self-importance.  He  gently 
asked  why  she  left  the  church  so  abruptly?  She  replied 
that  she  left  because  she  was  offended,  and  said  that 
she  thought  he  ought  not  to  have  preached  from  that 
text.  But  he  inquired  why  that  text  displeased  her. 
She  said,  "Did  you  not  say  that  some  fights  are  good 
fights?  "  "  Certainly/'  he  replied, "  and  are  they  not?  " 
"Oh,  yes,"  she  responded,  "  but  you  meant  the  fight 
against  the  Southern  Confederacy."  That  was  probably 
the  fact.  He  was  giving,  perhaps  unconsciously,  just 
a  little  vent  to  his  own  flaming  patriotism.  She  felt 
it.  She  intuitively  knew  it.  He  could  not  persuade 
her  to  return  to  her  place  and  her  duty.  That  good  pas 
tor,  sorely  beset  and  tried,  at  last  delivered  fully  his 
patriotic  message  and  resigned.  From  such  an  event 
we  learn  how  difficult  it  was  to  be  a  good  and  faithful 
minister  of  Christ  in  a  border  city  at  the  beginning  of  our 
civil  war. 

But  there  were  also  many  cheering  occurrences  during 
those  dismal  days ;  some  deeds  of  sense  and  self-restraint 
illumined  the  thickening  gloom. 

"  How  far  that  little  candle  throws  his  beams  I 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world." 

Early  in  1861,  before  the  river  to  the  South  was  ob 
structed,  a  Christian  gentleman  from  Mississippi  often 
came  up  to  St.  Louis  on  business.  Whenever  he  stayed 
over  Sunday  he  worshipped  with  my  congregation. 
He  was  a  pro-slavery  man  and  a  secessionist.  In  those 
days  I  always  prayed  publicly  for  the  country,  for  all 
that  were  in  authority,  and  that  all  efforts  to  break 
up  the  Union  might  be  thwarted.  One  of  my  brethren 
asked  him  if  the  prayers  did  not  offend  him.  He  pleas- 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  141 

antly  replied,  "  No,  not  at  all;  I  pray  with  your  pastor 
till  he  gets  to  the  country,  and  then  I  just  skip  that." 
He  was  one  of  those  rare  souls  that  in  a  time  of  discord 
and  conflict  are  lifted  above  unseemly  passion,  and  kept 
with  his  brethren,  from  whom  he  politically  differed, 
"  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace." 

Nor  must  I  fail  to  notice  a  warm-hearted,  impulsive 
member  of  my  church,  a  Kentuckian  by  birth.  He  firmly 
believed  that  secession  was  constitutional  and  right,  and 
that  slavery  was  of  divine  origin.  He  had  not  yet  learned 
that  "  what  is  inhuman  cannot  be  divine."  He  was  filled 
with  indignation  when  I  maintained  in  the  pulpit  that 
there  was  no  just  cause  for  rebellion  against  the  Federal 
government,  and  that  instead  we  were  under  solemn 
obligation  to  obey  it;  notwithstanding,  soon  after  he 
invited  me,  together  with  my  wife,  to  dine  at  his  house 
just  outside  the  city.  At  the  appointed  time  he  sent 
his  carriage  for  us.  On  our  arrival,  after  warmly  greet 
ing  us  at  the  gate,  he  said  to  me,  "I  think  that  you  had 
no  right  to  preach  on  the  subject  of  secession;  but  you 
thought  you  had,  and  I  do  not  think  that  this  difference 
of  opinion  should  destroy  our  Christian  fellowship. 
You  have  had  your  say,  and  now  that  I  have  had  mine, 
be  so  good  as  to  walk  into  the  house  and  make  your 
selves  at  home."  I  assured  him  that  his  position  was 
altogether  satisfactory  to  me;  and  that  I  rejoiced  that 
we  could  hold  and  express  antagonistic  political  views 
without  marring  our  brotherly  love.  Considering  how 
fiery  the  disposition  of  this  good  man  was,  the  stand 
that  he  took  was  as  gratifying  as  it  was  surprising. 
The  grace  of  the  gentle  and  forgiving  Lord,  in  whom 
he  trusted  and  whom  he  loved,  had  in  some  measure 
been  imparted  to  his  own  soul.  Thus  in  the  midst 
of  much  that  was  unlovely  and  repulsive  there  were 


142        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

here  and  there  many  noble  acts  that  fascinated  us,  and 
allured  us  to  Christ-like  living. 

From  the  few  incidents  which  we  have  here  presented, 
it  is  painfully  evident  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  war 
the  influence  of  the  pulpits  and  churches  of  St.  Louis 
in  shaping  public  opinion  on  national  questions  was 
sadly  divided.  Some  of  them  were  decidedly  for  the 
Union;  some  were  just  as  decidedly  for  secession;  in 
some  churches  the  membership  was  so  evenly  divided 
between  Unionism  and  secessionism  that  it  was  deemed 
inexpedient  to  make  any  allusion  in  the  pulpit  to  the 
great  national  issue.  All  things  considered,  the  pre 
ponderating  influence  of  the  pulpits  and  churches 
seemed  to  be  in  favor  of  secession.  But  as  time  rolled 
on  the  Union  sentiment  of  the  churches  gradually 
became  stronger,  and  before  the  close  of  the  war  de 
cidedly  predominant.  Some  pastors,  unquestionably 
loyal  to  the  general  government,  at  first  doubted  the 
expediency  of  publicly  expressing  their  views,  but  finally 
boldly  uttered  their  entire  thought.  As  a  whole  the 
Union  pastors  were  as  true  as  steel,  and  each  in  his  own 
chosen  time,  in  the  midst  of  clashing  forces  and  inter 
ests,  unflinchingly  did  his  patriotic  duty.  The  state  of 
affairs  was  such  as  might  reasonably  have  baffled  the 
wisdom  of  the  wisest.  It  was  a  time  that  tried  men's 
souls. 

But  the  press  was  quite  as  dubious  in  its  testimony 
and  influence  as  the  pulpit.  There  were  in  our  city  over 
fifty  periodicals  of  all  sorts.  Full  half  of  these  either 
advocated  or  apologized  for  secession;  and  some  of 
those  that  stood  for  the  Union  were  faint-hearted  and 
spoke  with  hesitation  and  feebleness.  There  were 
eleven  dailies,  great  and  small  —  and  some  of  them  were 
very  small,  their  editors  scarcely  knowing  in  the  tumult 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  143 

surging  around  them  whether  their  souls  were  their 
own.  And  since  to  a  large  extent  each  citizen  took 
his  cue  from  the  paper  that  he  read,  the  press,  take  it 
all  in  all,  propagated  among  the  masses  of  the  city  much 
of  its  own  dubiousness  and  bewilderment.  However 
among  the  dailies  were  two  great  political  organs,  that 
did  much  to  mould  public  sentiment,  The  Missouri 
Democrat  and  The  Missouri  Republican.  Their  very 
names  confused  strangers,  since  the  Democrat  was  the 
organ  of  the  Republicans,  and  the  Republican  was  the 
organ  of  the  Democrats.  The  Democrat  years  before 
had  been  established  in  the  interests  of  Free-soilism, 
which  had  long  been  a  pronounced  and  growing  senti 
ment  in  Missouri  and  especially  in  St.  Louis.  It  naturally 
therefore  became  the  organ  of  the  Republican  party, 
and  was  uncompromisingly  for  the  Union.  Its  trumpet 
always  rang  out  loud  and  clear;  it  had  no  uncertain 
sound.  The  paper  had  able  editors  who  advocated 
the  cause  of  the  Union  with  unusual  clearness,  breadth 
and  power.  They  permitted  no  one,  whether  he  were 
keen  or  dull,  to  misunderstand  them.  So,  in  a  reign  of 
doubt  and  bitter  conflict,  their  paper  became  a  mighty 
ally  of  the  Federal  government,  and  did  much  to  bring 
order  out  of  confusion,  to  harmonize  antagonistic  forces, 
and  at  last  to  restore  the  reign  of  civil  law.  It  is  doubt 
ful  if  this  great  journal  ever  received  its  just  meed  of 
praise.  Noiselessly,  day  by  day,  it  scattered  in  thou 
sands  of  homes  its  message  in  behalf  of  the  Union.  That 
message  gradually  cleared  the  vision  of  those  who  read. 
Friends  of  the  general  government  were  multiplied  by 
it.  It  was  a  tremendous  force  for  the  right.  Its  influ 
ence  for  all  that  was  truest  and  best  in  government 
can  no  more  be  gathered  up  and  weighed  than  one 
can  collect  and  weigh  the  sunbeams. 


144        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Its  great  rival,  The  Missouri  Republican,  was  also  a 
power,  and,  on  the  whole,  for  good.  It  was  exceedingly 
conservative,  and  by  its  utterances  did  much  to  moderate 
and  cool  burning  and  unreasoning  passion.  It  seemed 
usually  to  be  nicely  balanced  on  the  fence.  It  had 
two  editors,  one  a  secessionist,  the  other  a  Unionist. 
The  secessionist  was  somewhat  advanced  in  years  and, 
after  writing  his  editorial,  left  his  office  for  the  day 
about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  Unionist  editor 
was  much  younger,  and  wrote  his  editorial  about  nine 
o'clock  at  night.  And  these  two  editorials,  con 
servatively  advocating  opposite  views  of  the  great 
national  conflict,  daily  appeared  side  by  side.  But 
this  old  and  influential  journal  was  very  widely  read,  and, 
consistently  with  its  position  of  neutrality,  published  any 
decent  and  reasonable  article  for,  or  against,  the  Union. 
Its  constituency,  though  largely  disloyal  in  sentiment, 
read  what  it  published  on  behalf  of  the  Union.  So  to 
their  own  advantage,  as  well  as  to  that  of  the  Federal 
government,  they  were  thus  led  to  read  and  think  much 
on  both  sides  of  the  question  that  was  then  dividing 
the  nation.  But  the  general  public,  deeming  it  a  weak 
ness  and  a  sign  of  duplicity  to  receive  and  publish  all 
sorts  of  articles,  advocating  the  most  diverse  and  con 
tradictory  views,  with  more  force  than  elegance  dubbed 
this  great  paper,  "The  swill-tub."  Nevertheless,  it 
seems  reasonable,  all  things  considered,  that  to  have 
had  then  and  there  one  such  journal  was  a  mighty 
power  for  good. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1861,  when  the  people  had 
become  eager  for  war  news,  some  of  the  papers  began 
to  issue  evening  editions.  This  new  move  was  sensational 
simply  because  it  was  unusual.  A  wag,  commenting 
upon  it,  said,  "They  issue  these  evening  editions  to 


The  Pulpit  and  the  Press  145 

contradict  the  lies  that  they  tell  in  the  morning."  But 
neither  editors  nor  their  critics,  especially  in  times  of 
social  upheaval  and  commotion,  can  at  once  determine 
what  among  flying  rumors  is  true  and  what  is  false. 

Now  if  we  ask  in  what  direction  at  the  beginning  of 
the  war,  the  press  of  St.  Louis  threw  its  influence,  we 
see  that  taken  as  a  whole,  like  the  pulpit,  it  was  double- 
tongued.  Some  journals  were  for  and  some  against 
secession.  Some  were  vacillating,  at  times  both  for  and 
against  —  they  blew  both  hot  and  cold ;  some  were 
simply  bewildered;  some  half-apologized  for  the  rebel 
lion;  some  were  lost  in  the  fog  of  State  sovereignty. 
The  editors  on  either  side  of  the  national  question, 
and  those  on  the  fence,  were  doubtless  honest;  never 
theless  their  varied  and  discordant  voices  confused 
the  public  mind.  It  was  not  strange  that  the  people 
were  divided.  They  listened  to  a  divided  pulpit;  they 
read  the  deliverances  of  a  divided  press.  But  while 
amid  this  din  of  antagonistic  voices  some  were  confused, 
many  in  downright  earnestness  began  to  think  for  them 
selves,  and  in  spite  of  the  clashing  utterances  of  the 
pulpit  and  the  press,  at  last  thought  themselves  out 
of  the  mist  into  the  clear  light  of  day. 


CHAPTER   IX  ' 

DECISION   AND   DIVISION 

As  soon  as  Camp  Jackson  had  been  taken,  and  the 
panic  which  so  closely  followed  it  was  over,  a  new  spirit 
pervaded  the  entire  community.  Those  who  had  been 
halting  between  Unionism  and  secession  felt  almost 
irresistibly  impelled  to  decide  with  which  party  they 
would  act.  And  those  who  from  the  start  had  quietly 
but  firmly  allied  themselves  with  the  one  or  the  other,  and 
for  prudential  reasons  had  refrained  from  declaring 
their  political  faith,  now  felt  constrained  to  show  their 
true  colors.  The  process  of  open  alignment  was  rapid. 
Society  seemed  to  be  suddenly  transformed.  We  felt 
as  though  we  had  been  transported  in  a  state  of  uncon 
sciousness  to  another  world  and  when  there  had  waked 
up  in  astonishment,  gazing  upon  new  and  strange  scenes. 
At  first  some  thought  that  the  celerity  with  which  men 
were  being  converted  to  Unionism  was  marvellous; 
but  in  this  they  were  deceived.  There  were,  to  be  sure, 
many  striking  political  conversions,  but  in  the  vast 
majority  of  cases,  what  amazed  observers  was  not 
conversion,  but  a  frank  and  open  declaration  of  prin 
ciples  that  up  to  that  hour  had  been  secretly  held. 
Almost  everybody  seemed  to  be  confessing  his  political 
faith.  The  star-spangled  banner  which,  out  of  defer 
ence  to  the  feelings  of  secession  neighbors,  had  been  so 
long  concealed,  began  to  be  hung  out  from  the  balconies 


Decision  and  Division  147 

and  windows  of  public  buildings  and  private  dwellings. 
It  now  waved  from  the  cupolas  of  schoolhouses  and 
even  from  the  steeples  of  some  of  the  churches.  Union 
teamsters  decked  their  mules  and  horses  with  it.  Little 
children  on  their  way  to  school,  or  playing  in  the  streets, 
carried  it.  Just  as  sometimes  in  the  spring  the  sudden 
coming  of  the  warm  sunshine  and  showers  stars  the 
cherry  and  apple  trees  all  over  with  blossoms,  so  our 
city,  so  long  bannerless,  all  at  once  bloomed  with  the 
Stars  and  Stripes.  Badges  made  of  strips  of  red,  white 
and  blue  were  also  extensively  worn  both  by  men  and 
women,  while  on  every  side,  at  morning,  noon  and 
night,  could  be  heard  the  song  born  of  the  hour,  "  Hurrah ! 
For  the  Red,  White  and  Blue."  And  the  suddenness 
of  this  outburst  of  patriotism  for  a  time  threw  those 
who  had  been  struggling  in  doubt  and  gloom  to  prevent 
the  secession  of  Missouri  into  a  delirium  of  joy. 

Nevertheless  secessionism  in  St.  Louis  was  neither 
dead  nor  hopeless.  It  was,  to  be  sure,  for  the  time 
being  overawed;  but  it  was  in  fact  as  tenacious  and 
determined  as  ever.  Our  disloyal  fellow  citizens  were 
led  to  believe  that  the  city  would  be  at  last  captured 
by  the  rebel  army,  and  both  it  and  the  State  turned  over 
to  the  Southern  Confederacy.  So,  bating  neither  heart 
nor  hope,  they  labored  incessantly  for  the  realization 
of  this  purpose.  In  secret  they  plotted  to  secure  the 
secession  of  the  State .  Protected  by  United  States  troops, 
they  harbored  in  their  homes  spies  from  the  rebel  army. 
Some  of  them  themselves  acted  the  part  of  spies  and 
were  arrested  for  their  crime.  Many  of  them  contributed 
freely  of  their  substance  to  help  disrupt  the  Union  and 
establish  the  Confederacy.  But  while  they  worked 
clandestinely,  —  as  they  were  compelled  to  do  if  they 
worked  at  all,  —  most  of  them  in  social  intercourse 


148       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

manfully  declared  their  sentiments.  In  fact  the  time 
had  at  last  come  when  true  men  on  either  side  abhorred 
those  sordid  souls  that  sat  on  the  fence,  ready  for  the 
sake  of  pelf,  at  the  opportune  moment,  to  jump  off 
upon  the  side  of  those  who  should  chance  to  be  victori 
ous.  The  words  of  Dryden  in  his  "  Duke  of  Guise," 
written  concerning  the  Whigs  and  Tories  of  his  day, 
slightly  altered,  fittingly  depict  them. 

Not  friends,  nor  rebels  they ;    nor  this,  nor  that ; 
Not  birds,  nor  beasts ;  but  just  a  kind  of  bat ; 
A  twilight  animal ;  true  to  neither  cause, 
With  union  wings,  but  rebel  teeth  and  claws.1 

One  of  my  own  deacons,  a  true  and  brave  man,  at 
first  hesitated  as  to  the  stand  he  ought  to  take.  With 
him  it  was  a  matter  of  conscience.  He  was  not  swayed 
by  any  sordid  motive.  His  associations  had  been  largely 
with  Southern  and  pro-slavery  men.  He  regretted  that 
I  had  felt  impelled  to  speak  from  my  pulpit  for  the  Union. 
But  when  asked  by  some  of  his  secession  brethren  to 
sign  a  petition  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  asking 
me  to  resign  my  pastorate,  he  began  earnestly  to  think 
what  he  ought  to  do.  He  said  to  those  that  solicited 
him  to  put  his  name  to  that  petition,  "I  have  never 
yet  openly  opposed  any  one  of  my  pastors;  and  even 
now,  while  I  regret  that  our  present  pastor  publicly 
discussed  a  political  question,  I  cannot  sign  this  petition 
without  careful  consideration.  I  wish  to  take  it  home 
with  me  to-night,  and  pray  over  it,  before  I  decide 
what  to  do  in  reference  to  it."  He  prayed.  He  deter- 

1  "  Not  whiggs,  nor  tories  they;  nor  this,  nor  that; 
Not  birds,  nor  beasts;   but  just  a  kind  of  bat; 
A  twilight  animal;   true  to  neither  cause, 
With  tory  wings,  but  whiggish  teeth  and  claws." 

—  Duke  of  Guise,  Prol. 


Decision  and  Division  149 

mined  not  to  sign  it.  He  began  to  think  as  never  before. 
He  now  observed  that  all  the  newspapers  and  journals 
that  came  to  his  house  were  pro-slavery  and  secession; 
and  he  decided  to  secure  for  daily  reading  some  that 
presented  the  opposite  view.  He  at  once  subscribed 
for  two  Union  papers.  He  looked  over  his  library  and 
did  not  find  a  book  in  it  that  was  antagonistic  to  slavery. 
He  went  at  once  to  a  bookstore  and  bought  three  anti- 
slavery  books,  which  he  carefully  read.  Within  a  few 
days  his  mind  was  completely  revolutionized.  He  had 
decided  what  to  do.  Every  fibre  of  his  being  was  for  the 
Union.  He  soon  called  me  into  his  office  and  said: 
"  Pastor,  you  made  one  serious  mistake.  You  ought 
to  have  preached  against  secession  at  least  three  months 
before  you  did."  And  the  good  deacon  was  undoubtedly 
right.  From  that  time  all  measures  taken  for  the  pres 
ervation  of  the  Union  seemed  to  him  to  be  dilatory. 
He  chafed  because  the  President  held  back  his  emanci 
pation  proclamation.  After  the  war  was  over,  St.  Louis 
sent  him  to  Washington  as  one  of  its  representatives. 
But  we  should  not  forget  how  much  such  a  decision 
made  in  that  time  of  political  upheaval  cost  him.  It 
may  seem  easy  to  us  now,  but  it  tried  the  soul  then. 
It  broke  up  old  associations,  and  for  a  time  at  least 
made  lifelong  friends  enemies. 

In  my  own  neighborhood  there  lived  a  most  excellent 
Christian  family.  It  consisted  of  husband  and  wife  and 
four  or  five  children.  The  children,  I  should  judge, 
were  from  twelve  to  eighteen  years  of  age.  But  the 
father  and  mother  were  divided  on  the  great  national 
issue.  He  was  decidedly  for  the  Union,  she  just  as 
decidedly  for  the  Southern  Confederacy.  At  the  dinner 
hour  almost  every  day,  in  the  presence  of  their  children, 
they  hotly  discussed  the  question  on  which  they  were 


150        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

divided.  This  procedure  at  last  menaced  the  union  of 
the  household.  But  with  good  sense,  the  father,  be 
fore  his  whole  family,  proposed  to  the  mother  that, 
for  the  sake  of  peace  in  their  home,  they  declare 
a  truce  until  the  close  of  the  war.  The  wife  and 
mother  acceded  to  this  timely  proposal.  The  na 
tional  question  was  never  thereafter  mooted  under 
that  roof;  but  when  the  war  ended  I  noticed  that  the 
wife  as  well  as  the  husband  was  for  the  Union.  Silence 
and  events  had  prevailed.  But  this  divided  household 
was  not  an  isolated  case.  There  were  scores  of  families 
in  the  city  made  discordant  and  unhappy  over  the  burn 
ing  issue  of  the  hour. 

In  those  days  of  decision  there  was  a  distinguished 
judge  of  one  of  our  courts  who  was  a  Southerner  by 
birth  and  education.  He  was  pro-slavery  in  sentiment, 
but  a  decisive,  ardent  Union  man.  One  morning  he 
met  an  old  Southern  friend  at  the  Post-office,  whither 
in  those  days  we  all  went  for  our  mail.  As  usual  they 
cordially  greeted  each  other.  Then  the  judge  said  to 
him:  "  I  understand  from  others  that  you  are  an  enemy 
of  the  Old  Flag?"  He  replied  that  he  was.  Then 
responded  the  judge,  "  You  are  my  enemy.  Never 
recognjze  me  again  by  look  or  word."  That  decision 
was  positive  and  irreversible;  the  division  was  sharp 
and  irreconcilable. 

Living  on  the  same  square  with  myself  was  a  man  of 
Southern  birth.  He  was  a  pleasant,  agreeable  gentle 
man.  I  held  him  in  high  esteem.  I  had  been  called  by 
him  to  minister  in  his  household  in  a  time  of  sickness 
and  death.  Tenderness  of  feeling  had  marked  our 
intercourse  in  those  sad  days.  He  and  I  had  never 
exchanged  a  word  on  the  subject  of  secession.  Still, 
one  morning  as  I  met  him  and  as  usual  saluted  him,  he 


Decision  and  Division  151 

did  not,  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do,  return  my  salutation. 
I  concluded  that,  absorbed  in  something  else,  he  did  not 
see  me.  I  could  not  believe  that  his  seeming  discourtesy 
was  intended.  Two  or  three  days  after,  I  greeted  him 
again,  but  obtained  from  him  no  sign  of  recognition. 
I  determined  not  to  give  up  my  friend  without  one  more 
effort.  A  week  later  I  met  him  on  the  sidewalk  near  his 
own  door,  stood  within  four  feet  of  him,  looked  him 
straight  in  the  face,  and  said,  "  Good  morning,"  calling 
him  by  name;  but  he  made  no  response  either  by  word 
or  look.  He  was  no  longer  my  friend,  but  my  enemy. 
Why?  He  had  learned  from  others  that  I  was  for  the 
Union,  —  that  was  the  explanation  of  his  rudeness. 
During  all  the  war  we  frequently  met,  but  passed  each 
other  as  though  we  were  walking,  insensate  posts. 
I  always  felt  a  strong  impulse  to  speak  once  more,  but 
I  checked  it,  lest  speaking  might  give  to  my  dumb 
neighbor  useless  offence.  Such  experiences  as  this  were 
peculiar  to  those  who  lived  in  a  border  city  during  the 
war  of  the  rebellion. 

But  the  open  alignment  of  men  and  women  in  our 
city  for  or  against  the  Union,  disturbed,  if  it  did  not 
destroy,  in  many  of  our  churches  the  Christian  fellow 
ship  that  had  hitherto  existed.  Where  the  member 
ship  of  a  church  was  politically  very  largely  of  the  same 
mind,  the  friction  arising  from  the  few  in  opposition, 
while  deplorable,  did  not  very  seriously  interfere  with 
its  general  harmony.  In  such  a  case  the  small  minority 
either  remained  and  held  its  peace,  or  else  withdrew 
noisily  or  quietly,  while  the  main  body  of  the  church, 
freed  from  irritation  and  unified,  continued  its  legitimate 
work  with  increased  power  and  efficiency.  But  where 
the  members  of  a  church  were  about  equally  divided 
on  the  great  national  issue  their  contention  sometimes 


152       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

became  acrimonious.  When  such  conflict  was  waged, 
brotherly  love  was  overwhelmed,  and  the  very  existence 
of  the  church  itself  was  imperilled.  I  well  knew  one  such 
church.  It  occupied,  in  the  northern  part  of  our  city, 
a  very  important  field  for  aggressive  Christian  work, 
but  by  its  internal  dissensions  its  influence  for  good  was 
neutralized.  It  was  of  course  no  wonder  that  they  were 
absorbed  in  the  gigantic  national  battle  then  being 
waged.  Not  only  the  most  vital  political  interests  were 
at  stake,  but  a  great  moral  question  was  submitted 
to  the  arbitrament  of  the  sword.  These  Christian  men 
and  women  were  irresistibly  impelled  to  take  sides.  Some 
of  them  were  fighting  for  the  Union  and  against  slavery ; 
others  against  the  Union  and  for  slavery.  They  were  all 
honest  and  intensely  earnest.  The  government  of  their 
church  was  democratic,  and  they  were  continually 
counting  noses.  Each  party  sharply  watched  the  other 
lest  in  some  unexpected  exigency  it  should  be  outvoted. 
Their  pastor,  worn  out  by  their  belligerency,  resigned 
and  quit  the  city.  All  real  Christian  work  in  that  church 
was  now  at  a  standstill.  Something  must  be  done  to 
prevent  the  church  itself  from  being  blotted  out.  The 
case  was  desperate  and  called  for  heroic  treatment. 

The  remedy  was  forthcoming.  A  neighboring  pastor, 
who  had  at  heart  both  the  highest  good  of  his  country  and 
of  the  kingdom  of  God,  persuaded  two  of  his  brethren 
to  take  their  letters  from  his  church  and  to  unite  with 
that.  They  did  so,  and  that  gave  those  there  who  were 
loyal  to  their  country  a  majority.  With  them  he  con 
sidered  a  series  of  measures,  which  both  he  and  they 
believed  to  be  for  the  highest  good  of  that  contentious 
and  divided  Christian  body.  A  meeting  was  called  to 
consider  them.  Some  of  these  measures  were  very  dis 
tasteful  to  the  secession  party  in  the  church;  so  they  were 


Decision  and  Division  153 

long  and  hotly  debated.  That  memorable  meeting 
began  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  did  not  ad 
journ  until  two  o'clock  the  next  morning.  A  little 
after  one  in  the  morning  a  measure  long  and  stub 
bornly  resisted  by  the  secessionists  passed  by  a  bare 
majority;  in  their  resentment  a  half  dozen  of  them 
asked  for  letters  of  dismission;  these  were  of  course 
promptly  granted;  when  they  discovered  that  by  their 
spiteful  withdrawal  they  had  given  their  opponents 
an  assured  majority,  they  requested  to  be  restored  to 
membership  again,  but  their  request  was  ignored.  And 
now  for  a  time  pandemonium  seemed  to  have  broken 
loose.  A  half  dozen  of  either  party  were  on  their  feet 
at  once,  each  in  loud  tones  addressing  the  moderator, 
while  he  pounded  with  his  gavel  and  cried,  "  Order! 
Order!"  At  last  the  tempest  subsided.  The  dis 
comfited  left.  The  remaining  projected  measures  were 
quickly  passed,  and  the  meeting  adjourned.  Both  the 
victors  and  the  vanquished  were  all  good  brethren.  But 
both  did  what,  under  soberer  circumstances,  they  would 
not  approve.  Nevertheless,  after  that  stormy  business 
meeting  prosperity  came  to  that  church.  Their  house 
of  worship,  which  had  been  only  half  constructed,  was 
soon  after  finished.  A  strong,  level-headed  pastor  was 
called,  and  a  Sunday-school  of  more  than  a  thousand 
pupils  met  there  every  Lord's  day. 

The  divisive  work,  which  we  are  endeavoring  to  set 
forth,  went  on  through  almost  the  whole  period  of  the 
war.  As  late  as  January  9th,  1862,  it  appeared  in  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce.  A  number  of  Union  business 
men  applied  for  membership.  The  secession  members 
of  the  Chamber  were  bitterly  opposed  to  their  admission, 
and  by  the  ballots  which  they  controlled  secured  their 
defeat.  This  insulting  and  unbusiness-like  act  split 


154        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

the  Chamber  of  Commerce  in  twain.  The  Union  mem 
bers  withdrew  and  established  the  Union  Chamber  of 
Commerce.  Thus  at  the  very  centre  of  trade  in  our  city 
corrupt  politics  overruled  legitimate  business.  For  a 
time  the  eternal  laws  of  exchange  gave  place  to  scheming 
policies  of  secession.  In  that  border  city,  men  who  did 
not  believe  in  the  Union  and  in  free  labor  refused  for 
awhile  even  to  barter  with  those  who  did.  Every 
human  association  seemed  to  be  rent  asunder.  But 
this  unjust  and  short-sighted  action  of  the  secessionists 
in  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  stirred  up  much  bad 
feeling  throughout  the  city.  It  was  vehemently  de 
nounced.  Very  few  outside  the  extreme  disunionists 
rose  up  to  defend  it.  It  was  folly  so  unmitigated  that 
it  soon  reacted  on  its  authors;  what  they  attempted 
to  make  a  stronghold  of  secession  soon  ceased  even  to 
exist,  and  the  Union  Chamber  of  Commerce  remained 
without  a  rival;  and  there  every  worthy  business  man 
was  welcomed  irrespective  of  his  political  opinions. 

But  notable  events,  in  swift  succession,  were  now 
casting  new  light  on  the  problems  over  which  armed 
hosts  were  contending  and  for  the  solution  of  which 
they  were  freely  pouring  out  their  blood.  The  views  of 
receptive  souls  were  rapidly  becoming  broader  and 
more  national.  Some  original  secessionists  under  the 
increasing  illumination  joined  the  Unionists,  and  did 
it  at  great  personal  self-sacrifice.  Their  Southern 
friends  looked  upon  them  as  traitors  to  the  Southern 
Confederacy,  and  scorned  them.  They  cut  them  on 
the  street;  they  socially  ostracized  them.  It  required 
great  moral  courage  in  one  born  and  bred  in  the  South, 
to  become,  in  that  border  city,  an  out-and-out,  patriotic 
nationalist.  But  no  inconsiderable  number  were  equal 
to  the  demand.  For  the  sake  of  an  undivided  country 


Decision  and  Division  155 

they  gave  up  tender  social  relations  and  the  amenities 
of  life  and  boldly  proclaimed  their  change  of  heart. 

In  illustration  of  this  I  wish  briefly  to  call  attention 
to  one  of  the  many  converts  to  Unionism.  Just  before 
the  war  there  was  a  slave  auction  on  the  steps  of  the 
Court-house.  An  artist,  Mr.  Thomas  S.  Noble,  made 
sketches  of  the  impressive  and  shameful  scene.  He 
was  a  Southerner,  but  from  a  child  had  been  opposed 
to  the  system  of  slavery.  He  then  and  there  determined 
from  the  sketches  which  he  had  made  to  depict  on  canvas 
that  sale  of  men  and  women  under  the  hammer  of  the 
auctioneer.  But  he  was  too  busy  with  other  work  to  put 
his  hand  at  once  to  this  projected  task.  And  while  it  was 
deferred  the  war  broke  out.  Out  of  sympathy  for  the 
people  of  the  South  he  enlisted  as  a  soldier  in  the  Con 
federate  army.  When  the  term  of  his  enlistment  ex 
pired,  he  returned  to  St.  Louis,  and  took  up  again  the 
work  of  his  studio.  On  account  of  his  absence  his 
patrons  to  a  considerable  extent  had  fallen  away  from 
him.  He  found  that  he  had  leisure  time  on  his  hands, 
and  so  determined  to  begin  the  work  of  painting  the  slave 
auction,  projected  so  long  before.  In  his  mind  this 
public  sale  of  men  and  women  was  a  typical  national 
crime.  It  was  sanctioned  by  both  State  and  national 
law.  The  steps  of  the  Court-house  in  which  both  were 
interpreted  and  enforced  became  without  protest  a 
slave  mart.  The  Stars  and  Stripes  floating  over  the 
heads  of  the  auctioneer  and  cowering  slaves  exposed 
to  the  gaze  of  the  curious  throng  made  the  sale  a  national 
offence.  Under  a  sense  of  this  flagrant  national  injustice 
he  began  to  paint  and  the  product  was  a  mighty  protest 
against  the  crime  of  legalized  bondage.  With  his  sword 
he  had  just  been  fighting  for  slavery  and  the  Southern 
Confederacy;  now  with  his  brush,  he  was  contending 


156       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

against  both.  And  his  brush  was  mightier  than  his 
sword. 

But  he  was  soon  put  to  the  severest  test.  What  he 
had  painted  with  exhilaration  and  joy  brought  upon 
him  the  sharpest  of  trials.  In  a  social  way  some 
highly  esteemed  Southern  friends  dropped  into  his 
studio.  For  the  first  time  they  looked  on  his  slave 
auction,  or  "  Slave  Mart  "  as  he  called  it.  Knowing 
nothing  of  his  real  attitude  towards  slavery,  they  never 
theless  at  once  felt  the  powerful  protest  which  that  new 
painting  uttered  against  slavery  and  its  accompanying 
evils. 

In  the  front  window  of  a  picture  store  on  Fourth 
Street  the  artists  of  the  city  were  accustomed  to  display 
their  paintings.  The  Southern  friends  of  Mr.  Noble, 
as  in  his  studio  they  gazed  upon  his  embodied  protest 
against  slave  auctions,  anxiously  asked:  "  Are  you  going 
to  exhibit  that  painting  in  the  window  on  Fourth 
Street?  "  He  replied  that  he  had  thought  of  doing  so. 
They  said, "  If  you  do,  you  shall  have  no  social  standing 
with  us.  Our  relations  with  you  will  end  forever." 

Almost  all  of  the  artist's  intimate  friends  were  South 
erners.  To  be  cut  by  them  in  that  way  seemed  to  him 
a  very  bitter  trial.  For  the  moment  he  hesitated.  Up 
to  that  time  I  had  not  known  him;  but  I  was  known 
in  St.  Louis  as  an  uncompromising  Union  man;  so, 
in  his  hesitation  as  to  what  he  should  do,  he  called  at 
my  house,  told  me  his  whole  fascinating  history,  and 
asked  my  advice  as  to  whether,  in  view  of  the  threats 
of  his  old  friends,  he  should  put  his  painting  of  the  slave 
auction  in  the  show-window.  I  counselled  him  not 
to  be  turned  aside  by  threats  from  doing  any  right 
thing,  and  insisted  that  in  his  case  his  conscience  was 
involved;  that  he  was  bound  in  some  way  to  bear  wit- 


Decision  and  Division  157 

ness  to  his  conviction  concerning  slavery,  and  that  he 
should  do  it  by  his  brush  as  well  as  by  his  lips.  I  told 
him,  come  what  would,  he  ought  to  display  his  painting; 
that  while  it  would  cost  him  much  so  to  do,  there  cer 
tainly  would  be  compensations  for  his  sacrifice;  that, 
in  my  judgment,  where  he  would  lose  one  friend  he 
would  gain  three;  and  that  those  whom  he  would  gain 
would  be  better  than  those  whom  he  would  lose.  At 
the  close  of  our  conversation  he  determined  to  act  ki 
accordance  with  his  own  judgment  and  conscience, 
even  if  he  lost  all  his  old  friends  and  gained  none. 

The  next  day  his  "  Slave  Mart "  l  was  in  the  show- 
window.  Before  it  all  day  long  stood  a  crowd,  ever 
going,  ever  coming.  Thousands  viewed  with  admira 
tion  the  work  of  the  artist.  There  was  a  soul,  a  life  in 
the  picture,  that  appealed  to  every  onlooker.  Some 
subtle  power  in  it  laid  hold  of  the  imagination  and 
touched  the  heart.  The  artist  became  more  widely 
known.  He  entered  on  a  new  career.  Friends  such 
as  he  never  had  before  sprung  up  on  every  hand. 
He  afterwards  painted  John  Brown  going  out,  with 
pinioned  arms,  to  execution,  and  stooping  to  kiss  a 
negro  baby.  This  historical  painting  was  afterwards 
engraved,  and  the  engraving  was  extensively  sold. 

We  have  written  enough  to  show  how  much  it  cost 
one  in  St.  Louis,  during  the  war,  to  decide  firmly  with 
which  party  in  the  national  conflict  he  would  cast  his 
lot.  Such  decisions  in  a  multitude  of  cases  were  divisive; 
they  often  set  in  bitter  antagonism  husbands  and  wives, 
parents  and  children;  in  not  a  few  instances  destroyed 
old  friendships  and  blotted  out  for  a  time  the  ordinary 
amenities  of  life,  and  even  split  asunder  Christian 

1  This  painting  was  purchased  by  Wm.  B.  Howard  of  Chicago,  and 
was  burned,  not  in  the  great  fire,  with  all  of  Mr.  Howard's  Collection. 


158       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

churches,  the  very  body  of  Christ;  and  the  cleavage 
was  so  deep  and  radical  that  it  remains  to  this  day; 
some  churches  still  being  designated  either  "  North  " 
or  "South." 

The  whole  thing  was  amazing  when  it  was  enacted, 
the  recollection  of  it  now  is  weirdly  strange.  But  we 
should  never  forget  that  those  who  uncomplainingly 
sacrificed  for  their  country  the  tenderest  relations  of 
life  were  as  heroically  patriotic  as  those  brave  men 
who  fell  pierced  with  Minie  balls  on  the  "high  places  " 
of  bloody  battlefields. 


CHAPTER   X 

BITTERNESS 

I  SHOULD  be  glad  to  omit  all  reference  to  the  bitterness 
of  feeling  that  pervaded  the  minds  of  many  in  St.  Louis 
during  the  period  of  the  war,  if,  without  mentioning  it, 
I  could  faithfully  present  what  was  there  enacted.  But 
it  was  an  important  factor  in  the  life  of  that  city  so  long 
as  the  gigantic  and  heroic  struggle  to  preserve  the  Union 
lasted.  Happily  such  intense  bitterness  as  then  con 
fronted  us  has  forever  passed  away.  As  a  mere  reminis 
cence  it  is  like  a  wasp  in  amber,  interesting  perchance, 
but  harmless. 

We  shall  best  enable  the  generation  born  since  the 
war  vividly  to  apprehend  the  extreme  virulence  of  not 
a  few  in  St.  Louis  at  that  time,  by  calling  attention  to 
some  concrete  examples  of  it. 

Soon  after  the  taking  of  Camp  Jackson,  when  a  multi 
tude  of  national  banners,  large  and  small,  began  to  be 
displayed,  a  mother  with  her  little  son,  who  was  not 
more  than  five  years  old,  boarded  an  Olive  Street 
horse-car.  Some  one  had  given  to  the  little  boy  a  tiny 
flag.  Up  to  that  moment  she  had  not  observed  it.  When 
she  caught  sight  of  it,  before  all  in  the  car  she  cried, 
in  anger,  "  Where  did  you  get  that  dirty  rag?  "  Then 
snatching  it  from  the  hand  of  her  child,  she  threw  it 
upon  the  floor  as  though  it  were  a  viper,  and  stamping 
it  beneath  her  feet,  said  in  a  rage,  "  Let  me  never  see 


160       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

you  touch  that  vile  thing  again."  Such  an  exhibition 
of  wrath  against  the  Stars  and  Stripes  seems  to  us 
now  astounding,  but  it  was  all  too  common  then. 

This  extreme  bitterness,  early  in  1861,  began  to  mani 
fest  itself  against  the  Germans  of  the  city,  who,  as  we 
have  already  noted,  with  hardly  an  exception  were 
openly  and  stoutly  opposed  to  secession.  Those  who 
favored  the  Southern  Confederacy  seldom  if  ever  called 
them  Germans,  but  usually  denominated  them,  "the 
Dutch."  The  intense  contempt  which,  by  the  tone  of 
their  voices,  they  injected  into  that  simple  phrase, 
"the  Dutch,"  was  marvellous.  And  this  scorn  for  our 
German  fellow  citizens  was  especially  manifested  by 
the  gentler  sex.  The  secession  women,  belonging  to 
the  best  society  of  the  city,  often  poured  out  their 
vituperation  on  the  loyal  Germans.  At  parties  and 
receptions,  more  than  once  I  heard  them  hotly  de 
nounce  the  Germans  as  Amsterdam  Dutch  without 
the  Amster.  This  was  shocking  then,  it  is  almost 
unbelievable  now. 

But  even  this  pales  before  the  irate  utterance  of  a 
woman,  who  lived  hardly  a  block  from  my  own  door. 
A  few  weeks  after  the  battle  of  Wilson's  Creek,  the 
body  of  General  Lyon,  who  fell  on  that  well-fought 
field,  was  being  borne  through  the  city  on  its  way  for 
burial  in  his  native  State  of  Connecticut.  Some  one 
said  to  this  woman:  "The  hearse  with  the  body  of 
General  Lyon  is  coming  down  the  street;  "  to  which  in 
a  flash  she  responded,  "Good!  if  I  had  a  piece  of  his 
liver,  I'd  fry  it  and  eat  it."  Nobody  but  a  woman  could 
have  compressed  so  much  gall  into  so  few  words.  Shake 
speare,  who  sounded  the  depths  of  woman's  soul,  and 
understood  her  power  of  passion  as  no  other  English 
writer  ever  did,  in  his  "Much  Ado  about  Nothing," 


Bitterness  161 

put  into  the  mouth  of  "  Sweet  Beatrice/'  as  she  raged 
against  Claudio,  "0  God,  that  I  were  a  man!  I  would 
eat  his  heart  in  the  market  place."  What  the  prince  of 
dramatists  in  imagination  attributed  to  woman,  we  saw 
m  real  life  in  St.  Louis,  in  1861. 

If  now  in  what  we  further  relate  in  illustration 
of  the  bitterness  of  feeling  which  for  a  season  was 
manifested  in  our  city,  we  shall  find  amid  the  grave 
and  solemn  conflicts  of  civil  war  much  that  is  ludicrous 
and  laughable,  we  must  not  forget,  that  by  a  merciful 
Providence  this  tended  to  lighten  burdens  that  other 
wise  might  have  been  insupportable;  that  the  grave  and 
the  gay,  the  sad  and  mirth-provoking,  the  sublime  and 
the  ridiculous  often  keep  very  close  company,  and  that 
we  are  responsible  neither  for  the  facts,  nor  for  the 
strange  juxtapositions  in  which  at  times  they  presented 
themselves. 

Into  the  two  words,  abolitionist  and  Yankee,  a 
genuine  Southerner  and  secessionist,  by  his  intonation 
and  emphasis,  condensed  an  amazing  amount  of  bitter 
ness.  To  hurl  either  epithet  at  some  despised  Northerner 
was  the  climax  of  vituperation.  Nothing  could  be, 
nothing  needed  to  be,  added.  And  such  objurgation, 
harmless  to  the  recipient,  was  often  freely  indulged  in, 
in  our  city. 

I  sat  one  morning  in  the  study  of  Rev.  G.  J.  Johnson, 
D.  D.,  pastor  of  a  Baptist  church  on  Sixth  Street, 
when  a  Kentuckian  came  in  to  see  us.  In  a  moment 
we  saw  that  he  was  an  ardent,  impulsive  soul.  Without 
a  break,  for  some  time  he  talked  right  on  about  the 
war  and  those  who  were  conducting  the  government. 
With  rare  volubility  he  denounced  the  Yankees;  but 
soon  checked  himself  for  a  moment  and  asked  if  we  were 
Yankees?  We  assured  him  that  we  were  not;  so  he 


162        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

went  on  with  his  bitter  tirade  against  the  hated  and 
despised  Yankees.  At  last  he  stopped,  apparently 
to  take  breath,  and  asked,  "  Where  were  you  born?  " 
We  replied  that  we  were  both  born  and  brought  up  in 
western  New  York.  "  Western  New  York!"  he  ex 
citedly  exclaimed,  "  Western  New  Yorkers  are  the 
meanest  kind  of  Yankees!  "  We  greeted  his  discourte 
ous  declaration  with  a  peal  of  laughter.  At  which  he 
blushed,  and,  partially  infected  by  our  merriment, 
with  a  smile,  but  without  an  apology,  bade  us  good  day. 
In  my  church  and  congregation  were  two  bright, 
attractive  Southern  women.  In  sentiment  however 
they  were  politically  divided;  one  was  for  secession, 
the  other  was  for  the  Union.  In  January,  1861,  the 
latter,  in  some  way,  discovered  that  she  was  a  distant 
relative  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  Thereupon  she  visited  Spring 
field,  and  called  upon  him.  He  heartily  urged  her  to 
spend  several  days  under  his  roof.  She  was  delighted 
to  accept  this  cordial  invitation,  and  was  charmed  with 
her  new-found  blood  relation.  She  returned  to  St. 
Louis  full  of  enthusiasm  for  the  President  elect,  and 
embraced  every  fitting  opportunity  to  lavish  upon  him 
her  praises.  By  chance  she  and  the  other  woman  of 
opposite  political  sentiment,  of  whom  I  have  spoken 
above,  making  a  social  call,  met,  without  any  collusion, 
in  my  parlor.  The  conversation  soon  drifted  into  a 
discussion  of  the  ominous  events  which  were  then 
agitating  all  minds.  Very  soon  Mr.  Lincoln  was  spoken 
of  and  the  lady  who  favored  secession  called  him  a 
clown  and  a  mountebank.  This  brought  her  Southern 
friend,  who  was  a  Unionist,  to  his  defence.  Her  words 
had  in  them  no  tinge  of  bitterness,  but  they  were  positive 
and  cordial.  She  said  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  relative  of 
hers,  a  warm  personal  friend,  that  she  had  recently 


Bitterness  163 

spent,  by  his  urgent  invitation,  ten  days  in  his  house, 
and  that  he  was  no  clown;  if  she  had  ever  met  a  kind, 
warm-hearted  gentleman  he  was  one.  To  hear  Mr. 
Lincoln  so  warmly  eulogized  as  a  gentleman,  and  that 
by  a  Southern  woman,  was  a  little  more  than  the  seces 
sion  lady  could  endure.  She  burst  into  tears,  and 
said  in  broken  accents,  "I  —  can  —  never  speak  - 
to  you  again."  She  rose  to  depart.  Confounded  by  this 
unexpected  explosion  of  spleen,  and  hardly  knowing 
whether  I  was  at  home  or  somewhere  else,  I  managed 
to  help  my  tearful  friend  to  the  door,  where,  as  politely 
as  I  could,  I  bade  her  good  day.  She  did  not  respond. 
Her  choking  emotions  forbade  it.  With  her  handker 
chief  to  her  eyes,  she  went  sobbing  down  the  street, 
because  one  of  her  own  dear  friends  had,  in  the  most 
lady-like  manner,  declared  that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  a 
clown. 

But  the  unseemly  virulence  of  some  prompted  them 
to  deeds  of  violence.  In  the  autumn  of  1861,  a  young 
Southern  fire-eater  appeared  one  morning  on  Fourth 
Street  before  the  Planters'  Hotel,  with  a  loaded  revolver. 
He  flourished  it  around  and  above  his  head,  boasting 
that  as  soon  as  he  should  get  a  sight  of  Frank  Blair, 
he  would  shoot  him.  A  gentleman  who  heard  his 
braggadocio  felt  keenly  solicitous  for  Mr.  Blair's  safety. 
Just  then  he  caught  sight  of  him  on  Fourth  Street, 
about  a  square  and  a  half  north  of  the  hotel.  Hastening 
to  him,  he  reported  what  the  hot  Southerner  had  just 
said,  and  pointed  out  to  him  his  would-be  murderer. 
Mr.  Blair  was  a  tall,  well-proportioned,  vigorous  man. 
He  was  among  the  bravest  of  the  brave.  He  never 
feared  the  face  of  clay.  That  chilly  morning  he  wore  an 
overcoat  with  a  cape.  He  at  once  threw  the  cape  across 
his  breast  and  over  his  shoulder,  and,  to  the  consterna- 


164       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

tion  of  the  friend,  who  had  warned  him  of  his  imminent 
danger,  walked  directly  to  the  hotel,  before  which, 
with  loaded  revolver  in  hand,  stood  the  swaggerer,  who, 
a  few  minutes  before,  had  so  loudly  threatened  to  take 
his  life.  Mr.  Blair  went  past  him,  came  within  six  feet 
of  him,  looked  him  in  the  eye,  but  the  poltroon  did  not 
shoot.  He  found  it  easier  to  boast  than  to  act.  The 
piercing  glance  of  his  enemy  cooled  his  heated  passion 
and  made  him  a  shivering  coward.  When  Mr.  Blair 
reached  the  street  south  of  the  hotel,  he  turned  on  his 
heel  and  walked  back,  and  once  more  brushing  by  his 
cowed  foe  went  on  his  way  unhurt. 

But  even  in  the  fair  sex,  bitterness  sometimes  mani 
fested  itself  with  bloody  intent.  A  lady  who  lived  only 
a  few  rods  from  my  door  told  me  one  day  that  she 
intended  to  shoot  Frank  Blair.  Mr.  Blair  was  in 
tensely  hated  by  Southerners  for  his  pronounced  free- 
soil  views,  and  on  account  of  the  leading  part  he  was 
taking  in  saving  Missouri  from  the  madness  of  secession. 
The  more  malignant  disunionists  determined  if  possible 
to  put  him  out  of  the  way.  It  was  more  than  once  whis 
pered  that  in  due  time  he  would  be  assassinated.  And 
here  was  a  lady  that  was  aspiring  for  the  honor  of 
shedding  his  blood.  Just  why  she  so  frankly  declared  her 
intention  to  me,  I  could  never  understand.  However, 
we  were  well  acquainted  with  each  other,  and  she, 
knowing  how  warmly  I  contended  for  the  Union, 
evidently  meant  to  annoy  me  by  declaring  her  fell 
purpose.  Nevertheless,  I  made  light  of  it,  and  said  to 
her,  "I  don't  think  Mr.  Blair  will  suffer  much  from 
you."  "Ah!"  she  replied,  "I  have  a  revolver,  and  I 
am  practising  with  it  every  day  in  the  back  yard  and 
have  already  become  a  good  shot."  "Still,"  I  said, 
"  I  don't  think  you  will  seriously  injure  him."  She 


Bitterness  165 

responded,  "You  will  see  pretty  soon."  And  sure 
enough  her  opportunity  for  doing  that  meditated  deed 
of  blood  soon  came. 

We  have  already  noted  the  fact  that  when  Lyon  took 
Camp  Jackson,  he  divided  his  force  and  sent  different 
detachments  of  it  along  different  routes,  all  converging 
on  the  encampment  in  LindeH's  Grove.  A  regiment 
of  artillery  went  through  Chestnut  Street,  on  which 
this  lady  of  bloody  intent  lived.  Mr.  Blair  rode  on 
horseback  at  the  head  of  it.  The  street  was  not  very 
wide.  He  sat  majestically  on  his  horse.  He  was  a 
splendid  target,  enticing  to  any  one  who  longed  to  shoot 
him.  The  house  in  which  our  lady  lived  had  at  the 
second  story  an  iron  balcony  on  which  French  win 
dows  opened.  Some  one  said  to  her,  "  Frank  Blair  is 
coming."  She  seized  her  loaded  revolver.  She  panted 
to  become  famous,  and  saw  not  that  at  the  same  time, 
if  she  carried  out  her  purpose,  she  would  become  infamous. 
She  grasped  and  turned  the  knob  of  the  window;  it 
swung  back  on  its  hinges  into  the  room;  she  put  one 
foot  out  upon  the  balcony ;  Blair  was  now  nearly  abreast 
of  her,  and  only  a  few  feet  from  her;  just  behind  him 
was  a  battery  of  artillery;  this  was  the  first  time  that 
she  had  seen  the  brazen  throats  of  cannon.  Did  she  fire 
at  that  living  target  on  horseback?  She  utterly  failed 
to  act  the  assassin;  the  sight  of  those  six  and  eight 
pounders  sent  the  blood  from  her  head  to  her  heart; 
things  went  swirling  around  her;  she  faintly  whispered 
"Oh!  Oh!  "  and  fell  back  into  the  room  in  a  dead  faint. 
Blair  rode  on  all  unconscious  of  his  feminine  foe,  while 
the  members  of  her  family,  with  cold  water  and  harts 
horn,  anxiously  labored  to  restore  her  to  consciousness. 
She  at  last  opened  her  eyes,  a  sadder  but  wiser  woman. 
During  the  years  of  the  war  that  followed,  her  neighbors, 


166        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

when  they  greeted  her,  often  asked, "  And  how  is  Frank 
Blair?  "  Just  how  we  then  made  merry  over  intended 
murder,  it  is  now  difficult  to  explain.  The  lady  of  whom 
I  write  would  have  been  shocked  to  have  heard  it  so 
characterized.  She  simply  meditated  the  deed  of  a 
patriotic  heroine.  But  after  her  vaunted  violence  ended 
in  a  faint  she  seemed  to  lose  all  interest  in  the  war.  The 
sight  of  a  few  brass  field  pieces  drove  out  of  her  forever 
all  bitterness  of  spirit. 

Belonging  to  the  Presbyterian  Church  at  the  corner 
of  Eighth  and  Locust  Streets  was  a  good  deacon  by  the 
name  of  Tucker.  He  was  editor  of  an  evening  paper. 
Believing  with  all  his  heart  in  the  righteousness  of 
secession,  and  wishing  both  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
to  strike  telling  blows  against  all  advocates  of  Unionism, 
he  came  out  in  an  editorial,  one  Saturday  evening,  in 
which  he  said:  "The  devil  preaches  at  the  corner  of 
Sixth  and  Locust  Streets,  and  he  is  just  the  same  sort 
of  a  being  that  he  was  more  than  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago ;  he  wants  everybody  to  bow  down  and  wor 
ship  him."  Now  since  that  was  just  where  I  preached, 
the  editorial  was  rather  personal,  and  was  intended  to 
be  offensive.  The  deacon,  fearing  that  I  might  miss 
reading  his  highly  complimentary  words,  and  so  lack 
the  stimulus  that  they  might  impart  to  my  Sunday 
ministrations,  early  on  the  morning  of  the  Lord's  day, 
sent  a  copy  of  his  paper  to  me  by  special  messenger, 
having  thoughtfully  marked  his  amiable  editorial  with 
his  blue  pencil.  Instead  of  demanding  satisfaction  of 
the  pious  editor  as  almost  any  hot-blooded  Southerner 
of  that  day  would  have  done,  the  blue-penciled  editorial 
was  read  at  my  breakfast-table  amid  roars  of  laughter. 

The  good  deacon  a  little  while  after  left  St.  Louis, 
became  a  member  of  Claybourn  F.  Jackson's  political 


Bitterness  167 

family,  fled  with  the  Governor  and  his  staff  to  Arkansas 
and  printed  the  proclamations  of  the  discarded,  peri 
patetic  government  of  Missouri,  as  it  wandered  here  and 
there  in  exile.  About  two  years  thereafter  he  died  and, 
by  the  special  permit  of  the  general  in  command  of  the 
department  of  Missouri,  was  buried  from  the  church 
where  for  many  years  he  had  filled  the  office  of  deacon. 
He  was  an  honest,  earnest  soul,  striving  according  to 
his  light  to  do  his  duty. 

Moreover,  it  fell  to  my  lot  not  only  to  be  at  times 
the  subject  of  objurgation  in  secession  newspapers, 
but  the  enemies  of  the  Union  also  honored  me  by  threat 
ening  to  take  my  life.  On  a  June  morning  of  1861,  a 
gentleman  accosted  me  at  the  Post-office,  whither  I 
had  gone  for  my  morning  mail,  and  with  pardonable 
inquisitiveness  and  much  earnestness  asked  if  I  went  out 
nights.  I  assured  him  that  I  did.  He  then  urgently 
advised  me  not  to  do  so,  saying  that  he  knew  that  a 
plot  had  been  laid  to  kill  me.  I  answered  that  I  had 
very  important  duties  as  a  Christian  pastor,  and  when 
in  order  to  perform  them  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  go 
out  in  the  evening,  I  must  go  regardless  of  consequences 
to  myself.  Although  a  stranger  to  me,  he  declared  him 
self  to  be  a  friend,  and  that  he  said  what  he  did  out  of 
personal  solicitude  for  me.  He  wished  to  know  if  I  were 
not  afraid.  I  assured  him  that  I  had  not  the  slightest 
consciousness  of  fear;  and  that  come  life  or  death  I 
proposed  to  stand  at  my  post  and  do  my  duty.  He  went 
his  way  and  I  went  mine.  Soon  it  occurred  to  me  that 
I  did  not  ask  his  name,  and  who  my  solicitous  friend 
was  I  never  learned. 

Very  soon  thereafter  a  neighboring  pastor  called  upon 
me,  and  with  evident  anxiety  which  expressed  itself 
both  in  his  words  and  in  the  tone  of  his  voice,  detailed 


168        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

what  he  had  heard  about  the  planned  assassination  of 
myself.  He  thought  that  I  was  in  imminent  danger 
and  that  perhaps  it  might  be  best  for  me  to  leave  the 
State.  I  replied  that  I  suspected  that  some  of  these 
gruesome  stories  had  been  invented  to  frighten  me  from 
my  post;  and,  if  that  was  the  design,  the  authors  of 
them  had  missed  their  mark.  As  for  myself  I  had  no 
apprehension  of  any  special  danger,  and  I  had  settled 
the  question  as  to  what  course  I  should  take ;  it  was  my 
unalterable  purpose  to  go  right  on  in  the  discharge  of 
my  duties  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel  and  as  a  citizen 
of  Missouri  and  of  the  United  States,  if  the  heavens  fell. 
What  the  foundation  of  these  murderous  rumors  was 
I  never  attempted  to  discover.  Society  in  the  city  was 
wrenched  from  its  moorings,  and  was  tempest-tossed. 
That  some  cherished  wild  and  bloody  purposes  was  only 
too  evident.  Now  and  then  a  citizen,  under  the  darkness 
of  night,  was  done  to  death  in  the  street,  and  they  who 
did  the  deed  of  blood  were  never  discovered.  Men's 
minds  were  filled  with  apprehension.  Their  imagina 
tions  were  weirdly  active.  No  human  mind  fully  under 
stood  the  situation;  none  but  the  divine  mind  could 
fathom  and  comprehend  it.  No  man  could  see  the  dangers 
that  stealthily  lurked  by  his  pathway;  then  as  ever  there 
was  only  one  safe  thing  for  any  true  man  to  do,  trust  in 
God  and  fearlessly  do  his  duty  as  he  saw  it  day  by  day. 

In  November  of  1861,  General  Halleck  took  forcible 
possession  of  the  main  rendezvous  of  the  secessionists 
of  the  city  and  seized  the  arms,  furniture,  books  and 
papers  that  were  found  there.  One  book  among  others 
stirred  up  no  little  excitement.  In  it  were  several  pages 
of  names  of  our  citizens.  One  column  of  names  was 
written  in  red  ink,  the  rest  in  black.  Upon  investiga 
tion  it  was  ascertained  that  it  was  the  declared  purpose 


Bitterness 

of  the  disloyal,  who  made  the  place  their  headquarters, 
when  the  city  should  be  taken  by  the  Confederates, 
to  seize  those  whose  names  were  written  in  red  and, 
without  trial,  hang  them  from  the  nearest  lamp-post 
or  telegraph-pole;  while  those  whose  names  wrere  writ 
ten  in  black  were  to  be  thrown  into  prison  and  tried 
by  court  martial.  At  the  head  of  the  red  list  stood  the 
flaming  name  of  Frank  P.  Blair.  Beneath  his  many  of 
us  were  permitted  to  read  our  names  upon  that  blood-red 
roll  of  honor. 

The  instances  of  malignity  now  noted  by  us  are  but 
a  few  among  many.  Still  such  bitterness  was  far  from 
being  universal.  There  seemed  to  be  comparatively  little 
of  it  among  the  loyal.  They  were  resolute,  but  not  often 
virulent.  They  were  animated  by  confident  hope. 
Few  of  them,  after  Camp  Jackson  was  taken,  ever 
believed  that  Missouri  would  secede.  They  however 
saw  the  need  of  constant  vigilance.  They  coped  with 
an  able  foe;  but  feeling  that  their  star  was  in  the  as 
cendant,  they  gave  themselves  largely  to  works  of 
charity,  generously  meeting  the  wants  of  both  friends 
and  foes.  On  the  other  hand,  the  cause  of  the  disloyal 
was  clearly  on  the  wane.  The  fact  was  so  evident  that 
they  were  often  in  a  state  of  desperation.  In  such  trying 
circumstances  some  of  them  gave  way  to  blind  passion. 
Their  better  natures  were  overborne  and  some  of  them  ex 
pressed  their  pent-up  bitterness  in  hot,  hasty  words,  or 
in  despicable  deeds;  still  a  large  majority  of  them,  in 
all  the  stress  of  the  hour,  cherished  and  manifested 
a  kindly  spirit.  But  it  has  been  necessary  for  us,  in 
order  faithfully  to  depict  society  as  it  was  in  St.  Louis 
during  the  war,  to  present  some  of  the  many  sad  and 
startling  exhibitions  of  bitterness. 


CHAPTER   XI 

SLAVES   AND    SLAVE  -  PENS 

WHEN  the  Civil  War  broke  out,  as  we  have  before  said, 
there  were  only  about  fifteen  hundred  slaves  in  St. 
Louis.  Among  these  the  females,  specially  demanded 
for  domestic  service,  far  outnumbered  the  males. 
While  the  system  of  slavery  was  essentially  barbarous 
and  cruel,  most  of  these  bondmen  were  kindly  treated. 
Occasionally,  however,  some  brutal  master  gave  vent 
to  his  passion  and  punished  his  slaves  with  unreasonable 
and  unbridled  severity.  A  man  of  my  acquaintance, 
who  had  among  his  household  servants  a  small  colored 
girl,  not  more  than  fifteen  years  old,  for  trivial  offences, 
used  to  take  her  into  the  bath-room,  remove  all  her 
clothing,  and  then  hold  her  for  many  minutes  at  a  time 
under  the  streaming  cold  water  of  the  shower  bath. 
Her  cries,  while  undergoing  this  torture,  could  be  heard 
in  the  street  and  in  the  houses  of  his  neighbors.  And 
while  humane  slaveholders  denounced  the  savagery, 
such  was  the  law,  and  such  was  public  sentiment,  that 
nobody  ventured  to  take  the  part  of  the  poor  slave  girl, 
while  her  owner  and  tormentor  gloried  in  his  cruelty, 
evidently  regarding  the  punishment  as  original  and  a 
mark  of  his  genius. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  were  some  masters  who 
were  conspicuous  for  their  kindness  to  their  slaves. 
One  of  the  deacons  of  my  church  was  a  slaveholder. 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  171 

He  was  a  Virginian  by  birth.  His  slaves  came  to 
him  by  inheritance.  He  was  a  tall  man  with  sandy 
hair  and  a  mild  blue  eye.  In  him,  linked  with  ster 
ling  ability,  were  rare  modesty  and  unusual  benev 
olence.  Giving  seemed  to  be  a  luxury  to  him.  He 
contributed  to  every  good  cause  to  the  extent  of  his 
ability  and  often  beyond  what  could  have  been  reason 
ably  required  of  him.  The  suggestion  of  a  smile 
was  always  upon  his  lips.  No  one  that  observed  it 
could  ever  forget  it.  It  was  a  part  of  the  man;  the 
outward  expression  of  the  sunshine  of  his  soul.  And 
yet  this  noble,  tender-hearted  man  held  his  fellow  men 
in  bondage. 

About  two  months  after  I  became  his  pastor,  in 
response  to  his  cordial  invitation,  one  evening  I  dined 
with  him.  After  the  cheerful  meal  was  over,  he  took 
me  aside  into  a  private  room,  and  to  my  astonishment 
and  delight  said:  "  If  you  ever  wish  to  say  anything 
in  the  pulpit  against  slavery  you  need  not  hesitate 
on  my  account;  there  are  two  things  that  I  abominate: 
one  is  selling  liquor,  and  the  other  is  selling  niggers." 
Yes,  he  said  "niggers;  "  they  all  did.  He  then  told  me 
that  he  had  inherited  his  slaves,  and  felt  under  solemn 
obligation  to  care  for  them.  He  also  declared  that  they 
were  all  manumitted,  and  that  their  manumission 
papers  were  in  a  certain  drawer  in  a  bureau,  which  he 
pointed  out  to  me;  so,  if  he  should  die,  they  would  all 
be  free.  But  he  said,  "I  do  not  wish  them  to  know 
this.  They  are  all  young  and  I  am  trying  to  train  them, 
so  that  when  they  know  that  they  are  free  and  must 
shift  for  themselves,  they  will  be  able  to  earn  their  own 
living.  They  are  well  cared  for;  for  the  present  I  am 
the  nigger  of  this  household."  So  he  was.  Marshal 
Brotherton  served  everybody,  even  his  own  slaves. 


172        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

The  sexton  of  my  church  was  a  colored  man.  Every 
body  called  him  George.  One  day  he  said  to  me,  "  I 
am  the  slave  of  Marse  Brotherton.  If  he  should  die,  I'se 
afraid  I'll  be  sold  down  souf.  Won't  you  speak  to  him 
about  it,  and  axe  him  to  make  me  free?  "  I  told  him 
that  I  would,  and  I  soon  found  my  opportunity  to  do 
so.  My  good  deacon  then  told  me  the  story  of  George. 
A  few  years  before  George  belonged  to  a  man  who  lived 
in  the  county  of  St.  Louis,  outside  the  city.  His  master 
died.  When  settling  up  his  estate  the  executors  put 
George  in  the  county  jail  for  safe-keeping,  intending 
to  sell  him  to  New  Orleans  slave-traders.  Mr.  Brotherton 
was  at  that  time  sheriff  of  the  county.  Visiting  the  jail 
one  day,  George  entreated  him  to  buy  him  and  keep 
him  from  being  carried  down  to  the  New  Orleans  slave 
market,  which  all  slaves  instinctively  dreaded.  Mr. 
Brotherton  did  not  need  a  servant,  but  his  heart  was 
so  touched  with  pity  for  him  that  he  bought  him. 
He  at  once  opened  an  account  of  which  the  slave  knew 
nothing,  charging  George  a  fair  price  for  keeping,  and 
crediting  him  with  his  earnings.  In  a  little  while  the 
slave  had  paid  for  himself.  His  manumission  papers 
were  then  made  out.  All  this  was  concealed  from 
George.  He  was  a  freeman,  but  did  not  know  it.  Mr. 
Brotherton  had  set  him  up  in  the  wood  and  coal  business, 
was  teaching  him  how  to  buy  and  sell  and  keep  his 
account  books,  so  that  he  could  intelligently  care  for 
himself.  Having  heard  this  interesting  and  touching 
story  of  my  sexton  and  Christian  brother,  —  for  George 
was  a  true  believer  in  Christ  and  an  exemplary  member 
of  the  church,  —  I  asked  Mr.  Brotherton  if  in  his  judg 
ment  it  would  be  well  for  me  to  tell  him  that  he  was  a 
freeman  in  order  to  relieve  him  of  anxiety.  For  a 
moment  that  bewitching  smile  played  upon  his  lips,  and 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  173 

then  he  said,  "  Yes,  you  may  tell  him  if  you  want 
to." 

The  next  day  I  met  George  at  the  church.  It  was  a 
great  joy  to  me  to  tell  a  man  who  thought  that  he  was 
a  slave  that  instead  he  was  a  freeman.  And  my  poor 
pen  cannot  depict  either  his  happiness  or  mine,  as  I  told 
him  that  simple  story  of  his  master's  kindness  and 
benevolence  of  which  he  had  been  the  unconscious 
recipient.  He  listened  at  first  amazed ;  then  joy  beamed 
from  those  large,  tear-filled,  black  eyes.  He  seemed  at 
once  to  be  transformed.  In  broken  utterances  he 
expressed  his  gratitude  to  his  master  and  to  me.  There 
was  no  happier  soul  on  earth  than  he  just  then.  He  had 
come  to  his  duties  that  day  supposing  that  he  was  a 
slave;  he  did  those  duties  with  the  new-born  sense  that 
he  was  free.  No  two  states  of  mind  could  be  in  sharper 
contrast.  To  him  old  things  in  a  moment  passed  away, 
and  all  things  became  new. 

How  can  the  acts  of  this  Virginia  slaveholder  be  ex 
plained?  Why  did  he  deal  kindly  with  his  slaves? 
What  led  him  to  make  such  great  pecuniary  sacrifices 
in  manumitting  them?  The  explanation  is  probably 
in  part  to  be  found  in  the  benevolent  disposition  with 
which  God  had  endowed  him;  but  in  addition  to  this 
he  was  a  genuine  Christian.  He  was  vitally  united  to 
Christ.  Christ  was  in  him  and  he  had  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 
He  was  living  the  life  of  Christ.  He  had  much  of  Christ's 
love  to  his  fellow  men.  He  never  for  a  moment  doubted 
the  manhood  of  his  slaves,  and  he  felt  impelled  by  the 
spirit  within  him  to  treat  them  as  his  fellow  men.  He 
was  a  constant  reader  of  the  Bible.  He  had,  I  think, 
the  best-thumbed  New  Testament  in  my  entire  congre 
gation,  and  the  truths  of  the  gospel  were  antagonistic 
to  slavery.  He  evidently  very  profoundly  believed 


174        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

what  the  great  apostle  to  the  Gentiles  wrote :  "  There  is 
neither  bond  nor  free:  for  we  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." 
A  few  months  after  I  made  my  home  in  St.  Louis, 
my  good  deacon  wished  me  to  go  with  him  a  few  miles 
out  of  the  city  and  call  upon  Captain  Harper,  one  of  his 
close  friends.  He  did  not  tell  me  the  real  reason  why 
he  wished  me  to  make  the  captain  a  visit,  but  thereby 
hangs  an  interesting  tale.  On  a  beautiful  autumn  day, 
we  drove  out  to  the  farmhouse  of  his  friend.  We  were 
welcomed  with  genuine  Southern  hospitality.  After 
a  few  moments  conversation  under  the  shade-trees  in 
front  of  the  house,  Mr.  Brotherton  said,  "  I  think  that 
you  would  enjoy  a  walk  over  the  farm  with  Captain 
Harper. ' '  To  this  I  eagerly  assented.  The  farm  appeared 
to  be  in  perfect  order;  the  fences  were  well  built,  the 
fields  were  thoroughly  tilled,  and  the  maturing  crops 
were  abundant.  It  was  the  best  kept  farm  that  it  had 
been  my  lot  to  see  up  to  that  time  in  my  adopted  State. 
There  were  several  hundred  acres  of  it.  Here  and  there 
in  different  directions  I  saw  on  the  farm  neat  cottages 
painted  white.  I  asked  the  captain  what  they  were. 
He  told  me  that  they  were  occupied  by  German  and 
Irish  families,  the  families  of  the  men  who  worked  his 
farm.  "A  few  years  ago,"  he  said,  "I  carried  on  this 
plantation  by  slave  labor.  I  had  twenty-one  slaves. 
But  one  day  as  I  was  walking  across  this  field,  where  we 
now  are,  the  thought  came  to  me  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life  that  my  slaves  had  the  same  right  to  themselves 
and  to  the  product  of  their  labor,  that  I  had  to  myself 
and  the  product  of  my  toil.  And  this  conviction  was 
strong  and  persistent;  I  could  not  shake  it  off.  But 
what  could  I  do  with  my  slaves?  The  laws  of  the  State 
were  such  that  if  I  should  give  them  their  freedom 
they  would  be  worse  off  than  in  their  bondage.  I  then 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  175 

thought  of  the  Colonization  Society  and  decided  to  free 
my  slaves,  and,  if  I  could  get  their  consent,  to  send 
them  to  Liberia.  I  called  them  all  together  one  day  in 
my  dooryard,  and  told  them  that  I  had  been  convinced 
that  I  had  no  just  right  to  them  or  to  their  labor;  but 
I  pointed  out  to  them  the  woful  plight  of  free  negroes  in 
Missouri,  told  them  of  the  free  State  of  Liberia,  of  the 
Colonization  Society  and  of  my  wish  to  send  them  to 
live  among  their  own  people  in  Africa.  I  told  them 
that  they  were  now  at  liberty  to  do  as  they  pleased,  but 
that  I  should  advise  them  to  learn  trades,  and  if  they 
would  do  so,  at  the  end  of  three  years  I  would  send  them 
to  Liberia.  They  all  accepted  my  offer,  except  Mammy, 
whom  you  saw  at  the  house.  She  said  that  she  would 
not  go  '  nowhere  for  nobody; '  and  she  has  never  left 
my  home.  Some  of  my  slaves  learned  the  trade  of  the 
carpenter  and  joiner,  some  that  of  the  shoemaker, 
some  that  of  the  mason,  others  that  of  the  cooper,  and 
some  of  them  remained  here  on  the  farm  and  I  did  what 
I  could  to  teach  them  to  be  independent  farmers.  When 
the  three  years  of  their  apprenticeship  had  passed,  I 
sent  them  through  the  Colonization  Society  to  Africa." 
As  I  listened  to  this  wonderful  story,  so  modestly  and 
artlessly  told,  I  felt  like  taking  off  my  hat  to  my  new 
acquaintance.  This  was  a  kind  of  abolitionist  that  I 
had  never  before  met.  For  conscience'  sake  he  freed, 
educated,  and  deported  his  slaves  to  a  free  state.  It 
cost  him  fully  sixty  thousand  dollars.  But  he  cheerfully 
made  the  sacrifice  that  he  might  satisfy  his  sense  of  jus 
tice.  I  knew  now  why  my  deacon  had  been  so  insistent 
that  I  should  with  him  visit  Captain  Harper.  The 
Captain  was  a  man  after  his  own  heart.  Both  had  been 
born  and  reared  in  the  midst  of  slavery,  and  both  had 
become  emancipators  of  their  own  slaves.  They  were 


176        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

practical  abolitionists,  but  both  would  then  have 
indignantly  repudiated  a  title  so  opprobrious  at  that 
time  in  their  own  neighborhood  and  State. 

Richard  Anderson,  the  colored  Baptist  pastor  to 
whom  we  have  referred  in  a  previous  chapter,  caring 
for  a  church,  the  members  of  which  were  fully  half 
slaves,  had  many  interesting  and  suggestive  experiences. 
One  winter  he  conducted  for  a  few  days  a  protracted 
meeting.  At  the  close  of  an  earnest  and  sensible  sermon, 
-  for  he  was  an  excellent  preacher,  sometimes  truly 
eloquent,  —  he  invited  those  who  wished  to  be  Chris 
tians  and  desired  the  prayers  of  the  Church  to  come 
forward  and  take  the  front  seat  immediately  before 
the  pulpit.  It  was  called  the  "  mourners'  bench." 
Those  who  occupied  it  were  supposed  to  be  mourning 
over  their  sins.  Six  persons,  four  men  and  two  women, 
in  response  to  his  invitation  came  forward  and  occupied 
that  front  seat.  As  he  stood  before  them  he  saw  at  a 
glance  that  they  were  all  slaves,  and  his  talk  to  them 
was  suited  to  their  condition.  He  had  a  quaint  humor 
of  which  he  appeared  to  be  quite  unconscious.  Among 
other  things  he  said,  "  You  are  slaves;  you  belong  to 
your  masters;  you  have  very  little  in  common  with 
other  people.  But  there  is  one  verse  in  the  Bible  that 
was  written  especially  for  you:  '  Ho,  every  one  that 
thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters;  and  ye  that  have  no 
money,  yea,  come/  Now  you  have  no  money,  but  you 
can  have  as  much  religion  as  any  one  else;  you  can 
have  as  much  as  the  President  of  the  United  States,  and 
a  good  deal  more  than  I  believe  he  has  got."  Mr.  Bu 
chanan,  who  was  still  in  the  White  House,  was  very  un 
popular  among  the  colored  people,  which  may  account 
for  this  surprising  and  mirth-provoking  remark  on  so 
solemn  an  occasion. 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  177 

But  this  colored  pastor  had  many  sad,  heart-breaking 
trials.  This  is  one  of  them.  Two  members  of  his  con 
gregation,  a  widowed  mother  and  her  little  daughter, 
were  slaves  in  the  family  of  a  Presbyterian  deacon.  In 
the  autumn  of  1860  the  mother  came  to  him,  sobbing 
and  wringing  her  hands,  because  her  master  had  deter 
mined  to  sell  her  to  a  New  Orleans  slave-trader,  and 
to  retain  in  his  own  household  her  little  daughter. 
She  must  take  her  chances  in  the  dreaded  slave  market, 
and  be  sold  to  whom  she  knew  not,  a  fate  from  which 
the  slaves  of  the  border  States  shrank  with  untold 
horror,  and  must  be  torn  from  her  only  child,  her  greatest 
earthly  solace.  But  what  could  her  pastor  do?  He  too 
belonged  to  the  servile  race,  and  in  his  boyhood  had  been 
a  slave.  Too  vehement  protestation  on  his  part  would 
damage  the  case  rather  than  help  it.  But  he  fearlessly 
sought  out  her  master,  and  pleaded  as  well  as  he  could 
the  case  of  the  distressed  mother.  Whatever  the  deacon 
may  have  felt  as  he  listened  to  the  modest,  earnest 
pleading  of  that  great-hearted  black  pastor,  he  inflexibly 
held  to  his  resolution  to  sell  his  dark-skinned  sister  in 
Christ ;  not  that  she  had  been  an  unfaithful  or  inefficient 
servant,  but  because  the  deacon  needed  money,  and  as 
he  thought  must  have  it.  So  he  carried  out  his  purpose. 
The  day  came  when,  with  a  hundred  or  more  consigned 
to  the  same  pitiless  fate,  she  boarded  the  steamer  at 
the  levee  to  be  carried  to  her  doom.  Her  little  slave 
daughter  was  there  to  give  her  the  last  tearful  kiss 
and  embrace.  Her  faithful  pastor  stood  by  filled  with 
sorrow  and  deep  down  in  his  soul  hot  with  righteous 
wrath.  The  steamer  moved  out  from  the  levee,  the 
anguished  mother  and  the  pastor  waved  to  each  other 
their  red  bandanas,  and  slowly  the  vessel  with  its  freight 
of  sorrow  disappeared  down  the  river. 


178        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Immediately  after,  I  met  this  pastor  with  his  burden 
of  grief,  and  he  told  me  the  sad  tale.  He  said:  "  Think 
of  it !  she  came  to  me  for  comfort.  And  I  did  the  best  I 
could."  I  said  to  him,  "  I  don't  see  what  you  could 
have  said  to  comfort  her."  He  replied,  "  There  was  not 
much  that  I  could  say;  but  I  did  tell  her  that  God  was 
down  there  as  well  as  up  here,  and  in  some  way  he  would 
take  care  of  her,  and  that  when  she  got  to  heaven,  where 
the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  she  would  not  find 
that  Presbyterian  deacon  there  to  torment  her."  He 
uttered  this  in  dead  earnestness,  and  with  a  solemn 
gravity  befitting  the  heart-breaking  story,  seemingly 
without  the  slightest  consciousness  of  the  mingled 
humor  and  sarcasm  of  his  last  declaration. 

Belonging  to  my  congregation,  though  not  a  member 
of  my  church,  was  a  banker  and  slaveholder.  He  was 
a  Mississippian  by  birth  and  education,  and  profoundly 
believed  in  the  righteousness  of  slavery.  Knowing  that 
I  came  from  the  North,  he  set  out  to  convince  me  that 
African  slavery  was  not  only  right,  but  beneficent  and 
beautiful.  But  he  little  suspected  how  difficult  the  job 
was  that  he  had  undertaken.  However,  to  attain  his 
object,  he  proceeded  in  a  cautious,  artful  manner.  He 
invited  me  and  mine  to  dinner.  It  was  a  very  natural 
move  for  a  man  to  make  in  reference  to  his  pastor.  But 
once  warmly  welcomed  under  his  roof  and  to  his  table 
loaded  with  the  best  from  the  market,  his  unseemly 
ardor  in  setting  forth  the  attractiveness  of  the  "  peculiar 
institution  "  slightly  revealed  his  ulterior  purpose  in 
making  me  a  recipient  of  his  bountiful  hospitality. 
But  the  dinner  was  good,  his  wife  was  a  charming  hostess 
and  his  young  daughters  were  winsome.  Under  the  cir 
cumstances  it  became  me  to  be  a  good  listener,  to  make 
some  commonplace  remarks,  and  to  ask  questions  with 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  179 

an  air  of  innocence.  This  seemed  to  encourage  mine 
host,  and  he  set  forth  with  much  particularity  and 
with  the  accent  of  conviction  the  manifold  benefits  of 
slavery  as  it  existed  in  the  United  States.  I  made  no 
adverse  comment,  which  incited  him  to  illustrate  the 
beauties  of  human  bondage  by  the  condition  of  the 
slaves  in  his  own  household.  He  was  the  proud  owner 
of  two.  One  of  them  was  a  mulatto,  over  six  feet  in 
height,  and  between  twenty-five  and  thirty  years  of 
age.  He  was  good-looking,  and  evidently  a  man  of 
energy  and  decision.  My  host  said,  "  Did  you  see 
Wash  when  you  came  in?  "  I  assured  him  that  I  did, 
and  that  I  was  very  much  impressed  by  him.  "  Well," 
he  said,  "  Wash  has  been  with  me  for  many  years;  I 
think  a  great  deal  of  him,  and  he  is  warmly  attached 
to  me  and  my  family.  Nothing  could  persuade  him  to 
leave  me.  I  have  perfect  confidence  in  him.  He  is  also 
a  man  of  good  judgment.  I  never  buy  a  horse  or  trade 
horses  unless  I  first  get  Wash's  opinion."  And  so  he 
went  on  extolling  his  slave,  who  seemed  to  me  to  be  a 
manlier  man  than  his  master. 

Having  exhausted  the  subject  of  Wash,  he  began  to 
dilate  on  Mammy.  "  Did  you  notice  her?  "  he  said. 
"  She  waited  on  the  table.  She  has  nursed  these  daugh 
ters  of  ours,  and  loves  them  as  though  they  were  her 
own  children  and  they  love  her.  W^hy,  sir,  she  is  so 
attached  to  her  home  and  to  us  all  that  nothing  could 
tempt  her  to  leave  us."  Well,  to  hear  mine  host  talk, 
if  one  had  never  known  anything  about  slavery  except 
what  he  set  forth,  it  could  not  but  have  been  con 
sidered  in  some  respects  a  beneficent  institution. 

He  at  last  asked  his  wife  to  play  the  piano,  while  the 
young  daughters  danced.  I  noticed  Mammy  in  an 
adjoining  room,  looking  in  upon  the  happy  scene  and 


180        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

in  her  delight  showing  her  ivory.  About  ten  o'clock, 
with  many  warm  wishes  each  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
other,  we  parted,  I  to  think  of  the  beneficence  and 
beauty  of  slavery,  and  my  host  probably  to  contem 
plate  his  success  in  commending  to  my  good  graces  an 
institution  that  I  had  been  educated  to  abhor. 

But  what  was  the  sequel  of  that  evening's  conversa 
tion?  What  light  did  the  immediate  future  throw  back 
upon  it?  Was  my  genial  host's  emphatic  and  repeated 
declaration  that  nothing  could  entice  Wash  and  Mammy 
from  their  home  verified?  The  war  came  on  apace. 
Everything  appeared  to  be  out  of  joint.  The  most  stable 
relations  of  life  were  unexpectedly  and  strangely  upset. 
Property  in  slaves  grew  precarious.  And  the  first  slave 
in  St.  Louis  reported  in  the  papers  as  having  run  away 
was  W^ash. 

His  master  was  an  officer  of  a  bank.  The  young  men 
employed  there,  to  whom  he  had  declared  as  he  did  to 
me  that  nothing  could  induce  Wash  to  leave  him, 
asked  him  if  he  intended  to  catch  his  runaway  slave 
and  bring  him  back.  He  replied,  "No,  let  him  go,  I 
never  liked  to  have  him  around  anyway;  I  am  glad 
that  he  has  gone."  While  this  quite  flatly  contradicted 
his  previous  utterances,  under  the  circumstances  it 
was  wisest  not  to  attempt  to  apprehend  his  fleeing 
chattel.  But  for  many  weeks,  almost  every  day,  some 
one  in  the  bank  would  exasperatingly  ask  him,  "How 
is  Wash?  "  But  did  Mammy,  so  full  of  affection  and  so 
delighted  with  her  home,  prove  true  to  her  master  and 
mistress?  About  two  weeks  after  Wash's  departure,  she 
left  without  giving  notice  to  the  family.  She  slept  in 
the  second  story  of  the  house.  In  the  night  she  made 
up  a  budget  for  herself,  and  threw  it  out  into  the  yard. 
She  then  made  a  rope  of  her  bed-clothes,  fastened  one 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  181 

end  of  it  to  her  bedstead,  and  threw  the  other  out  of 
the  window.  Her  improvised  rope  reached  nearly 
to  the  ground.  She  climbed  down  the  rope,  took  up 
her  budget  and  departed.  That  household  never  saw 
that  devoted  mammy  again.  Such  incidents  are  repre 
sentative  of  hundreds  of  others  at  that  time.  To  be 
sure  many  of  the  slaves  were  true  to  their  masters  and 
remained  with  their  families  to  the  close  of  the  war ;  but 
those  who  wished  to  leave  did  so,  and  the  fugitive  slave 
law,  having  suddenly  become  a  dead  letter,  could  no 
longer  be  invoked  to  catch  them. 

And  the  slaves  had  a  pretty  clear  idea  of  the  meaning 
of  the  war.  They  knew  that  their  own  bondage  was  the 
real  bone  of  contention.  They  believed  that  their 
chains  were  to  be  broken  and  that  they  would  soon 
be  free.  Very  early  in  the  war  the  slaves  saw  the 
drift  of  events.  As  they  met  each  other  they  gave 
joyful  expression  to  their  expectation  of  freedom, 
believing  it  to  be  near  at  hand.  The  morning  after 
Camp  Jackson  was  taken,  all  the  equipage  of  the  camp 
was  carried  in  army  wagons  down  the  street  near  my 
door.  Out  of  curiosity  a  promiscuous  crowd  had  gath 
ered  at  the  corner  of  the  street  to  see  the  sight.  Two 
female  slaves  belonging  to  a  family  near  by  stood  there 
grinning  with  delight.  A  young  woman,  a  pronounced 
secessionist,  from  one  of  the  Gulf  States,  said,  with  an 
air  of  triumph,  stretching  out  her  arm  and  excitedly 
shaking  her  hand,  "  We'll  whip  you  yet."  In  response, 
quick  as  a  flash,  the  two  slave  girls,  pointing  to  the 
loaded  wagons,  gleefully  cried  out,  "  They've  got  all 
your  tents."  I  knew  those  slaves,  but  had  not  known 
that  they  had  any  interest  in  the  war.  However,  it 
was  now  clear  that  they  understood  its  real  meaning 
and  took  sides  with  the  Unionists. 


182        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

But  slave-pens  were  a  necessary  adjunct  of  slavery. 
Even  though,  by  barbarous  laws,  men,  women  and 
children  were  made  chattels,  they  still  continued  to  feel, 
think  and  will.  And  since  many  of  them  abhorred  their 
condition,  it  was  necessary  to  pen  them  up  so  that 
they  might  be  securely  kept  and  safely  handled.  With 
out  thick  stone  walls,  windows  barred  with  iron,  strong 
doors  locked  and  bolted,  such  property  while  being 
bought  and  sold  might  vanish. 

When  in  my  pulpit,  facing  my  congregation,  I  also 
faced,  only  half  a  square  away,  a  hideous  slave-pen. 
It  was  kept  by  Mr.  Lynch,  an  ominous  name.  I  some 
times  saw  men  and  women,  handcuffed  and  chained  to 
gether,  in  a  long  two-by-two  column,  driven  in  there 
under  the  crack  of  the  driver's  whip,  as  though  they 
were  so  many  colts  or  calves.  Had  they  committed 
any  crime?  Oh,  no,  they  had  been  bought,  in  different 
parts  of  the  State,  by  speculators,  as  one  would  buy 
up  beef-cattle,  and  were  kept  in  the  pen  to  be  sold  to  the 
good  people  of  St.  Louis  and  of  the  surrounding  towns 
and  country  districts;  and  those  not  thus  disposed  of 
were  bought  by  slave-dealers  for  the  New  Orleans 
market. 

In  1859,  some  preachers  from  the  eastern  States, 
who  had  been  at  New  Orleans,  attending  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of 
the  United  States,  on  their  return  to  their  homes, 
stopped  for  three  or  four  days  in  our  city.  They  painted 
in  glowing  terms  the  lavish  and  delicate  hospitality 
that  they  had  received  in  the  commercial  capital  of 
Louisiana.  Appreciating  the  truth  of  all  they  said,  I 
nevertheless  asked  them  if  they  visited  the  famous 
slave-market  of  that  city.  They  said  that  they  did  not. 
I  affirmed  that  they  had  missed  a  great  opportunity 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  183 

of  seeing  the  other  side  of  the  picture;  that  when 
they  had  seen  and  experienced  the  Christian  hospitality 
of  that  old  Spanish  and  French  city,  they  ought  also  to 
have  viewed  in  contrast  a  slave  auction  there  —  as 
heartless  and  cruel  a  scene  as  the  wide  earth  afforded. 
Regretting  that  they  had  so  superficially  done  New 
Orleans,  they  said,  "  Have  you  any  slave-markets 
here? "  I  replied,  "  We  have  some  slave-pens,  but 
they  are  as  paradise  to  perdition  to  the  slave-market 
down  there.  Nevertheless,  to-morrow  I  will  show 
you  the  sights,  slave-pens  included." 

In  the  morning,  three  or  four  of  the  residents  of  the 
city  joined  us,  so  that  we  had  a  party  of  nine.  We 
first  visited  the  Mercantile  Library  with  its  treasures 
of  art.  "Now,"  I  said, " since  we  are  always  impressed 
by  contrasts,  let  us  go  from  tasteful  rooms,  books 
and  art  to  Lynch's  slave-pen."  All  were  agreed,  and  we 
were  soon  on  our  way.  I  had  some  slight  acquaintance 
with  Mr.  Lynch,  having  often  spoken  to  him  as  he  sat 
out  on  the  sidewalk  in  warm  weather  before  his  pen. 
He  was  sitting  there  when  we  arrived.  "  Good  morning, 
Mr.  Lynch,"  I  said,  "these  gentlemen  wish  to  go  into 
your  slave-pen."  "  Certainly,"  he  said,  "gentlemen, 
I  am  glad  to  see  you."  He  evidently  thought  that  we 
had  come  to  trade  with  him.  As  we  entered  the  room 
immediately  in  front  of  the  pen,  one  of  the  party,  a  tall 
ungainly-looking  lawyer,  full  of  humor  and  fun,  said, 
"Mr.  Lynch,  look  out  for  these  fellows,  they  are  a  pack 
of  abolitionists."  Lynch  received  the  declaration 
simply  as  a  chaffing  joke  and  laughed  heartily.  It  was, 
however,  sober  truth.  He  put  his  great  iron  key  into 
the  lock,  turned  back  the  bolt,  swung  open  the  door, 
and  turning  his  face  towards  us,  said,  "Gentlemen,  I 
have  not  much  stock  on  hand  to-day."  Every  man  in 


184        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

our  company  was  shocked  beyond  expression  by  that 
brutal  announcement.  We  filed  solemnly  in.  He  shut 
the  door  and  left  us  alone  and  undisturbed  to  examine 
his  "  stock."  The  room  was  in  shape  a  parallelogram. 
It  was  plastered  and  had  one  small  window  high  up 
near  the  ceiling.  There  was  no  floor  but  the  bare 
earth.  Three  backless,  wooden  benches  stood  next  to 
the  walls.  There  were  seven  slaves  there,  both  men 
and  women,  herded  together,  without  any  arrangement 
for  privacy.  Some  of  the  slaves  were  trying  to  while 
away  their  time  by  playing  at  marbles.  One  fairly 
good-looking  woman  about  forty  years  old,  tearfully 
entreated  us  to  buy  her,  promising  over  and  over  again 
to  be  faithful  and  good.  In  that  sad  entreaty  one 
could  detect  the  harrowing  fear  of  being  sold  down 
South.  Her  plaint  was  more  than  a  good  pastor  from 
Troy,  N.  Y.,  could  endure.  Coming  up  close  to  my  side 
he  said,  "For  God's  sake,  Anderson,  let  us  get  out  of 
here!"  I  rapped  on  the  door;  Mr.  Lynch  opened  it; 
we  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  bade  him  good  day, 
and  marched  silently  down  the  street.  There  was  now 
no  joking,  no  merriment.  We  turned  the  corner  into 
another  street.  We  were  hidden  from  Lynch's  gaze. 
My  friend  from  Troy  stopped ;  in  indignation  he  stamped 
his  foot;  he  was  in  agony  of  spirit;  he  planted  his  heel 
on  the  brick  sidewalk  and,  turning  the  toe  of  his  foot 
hither  and  thither  again  and  again,  he  ground  the  brick 
under  his  heel.  It  was  an  instinctive  bodily  movement, 
an  irrepressible  outward  expression  of  his  intense  desire 
to  grind  slavery  to  powder.  At  last  he  exclaimed, 
"  Thank  God,  I  never  had  anything  to  do  with  that." 
" Don't  be  too  sure  about  that,"  I  replied,  "how  have 
you  voted?  Now,"  I  added,  "  let  us  go  to  a  slave-pen 
at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and  Myrtle  Streets,  where  they 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  185 

keep  little  colored  boys  and  girls  for  sale."  "No," 
he  vehemently  replied,  "I  will  not  go  a  step,  I  have 
seen  enough.  You  could  not  hire  me  to  go  there  with 
all  the  gold  in  California." 

This  pen  where  slave  children  were  kept  was  much 
larger  than  Lynch's.  The  traffic  in  children  seemed  to 
be  specially  brisk  and  profitable.  The  inmates  of  this 
grim  prison-house  were  from  about  five  to  sixteen  years 
old.  Both  sexes  were  there.  When  the  slave-trader 
bought  a  mother  and  her  children,  she  was  sometimes 
for  a  season  shut  up  with  her  brood  in  that  hated  place. 
Every  few  weeks  there  was  an  auction  of  these  black 
children,  with  all  of  its  repulsive,  heart-breaking  scenes. 
On  one  such  occasion  the  auctioneer  commended  to  a 
crowd  a  beautiful  mulatto  girl,  about  sixteen  years  old, 
as  having  the  blood  of  a  United  States  senator  running 
in  her  veins.  Some  in  that  gaping  throng  listened  with 
delight;  but  a  gentleman  from  the  East,  a  mild-man 
nered  man,  unexpectedly  flamed  out  with  indignation, 
and  denounced  the  auctioneer  and  the  whole  vile  slave- 
trade.  For  this  drastic,  burning  denunciation  he  was 
threatened  with  violence.  But  this  man  of  gentle  spirit 
and  manners,  when  aroused,  proved  to  be  a  veritable 
"son  of  thunder,"  and  he  defied  his  assailants. 
"  When,"  he  said,  "  this  shameless  injustice  is  not  only 
periodically  enacted  in  our  city,  but  our  whole  State  is 
plunged  into  ignominy  by  offering  for  sale  a  daughter 
of  a  United  States  senator,  I  cannot  and  will  not  hold 
my  peace.  Do  what  you  please.  I  denounce  the  out 
rage."  Those  that  threatened  him  were  cowed  into 
silence ;  the  disturbance  was  only  a  momentary  ripple ; 
the  auctioneer  went  on  with  his  nefarious  task ;  the  girl 
with  senatorial  blood  was  knocked  down  to  the  highest 
bidder.  And  then  another,  and  another,  and  another, 


186        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

boy  or  girl,  was  sold  under  the  hammer  till  the  fall  of 
the  curtain  of  darkness  put  temporary  end  to  the 
shameless  work. 

A  man  connected  with  this  pen  defended  the  breaking 
up  of  families  by  the  sale  of  slaves.  He  said  that  black 
mothers  and  children  did  not  much  mind  being  separated ; 
that  they  had  little,  if  any,  real  affection  for  each  other ; 
it  was  very  much  like  separating  a  cow  and  her  calf. 
A  little  while  after,  at  that  very  slave-pen,  I  saw  the 
disproof  of  his  words.  A  man  had  just  bought  there, 
at  private  sale,  a  little  boy  about  ten  years  old.  The 
lad's  mother  was  with  him.  As  he  was  taken  away 
from  the  pen,  he  began  in  his  grief  to  howl  as  though 
his  heart  was  breaking.  After  he  had  been  taken  about 
two  squares,  his  purchaser,  annoyed  by  the  wailing, 
returned  with  him  to  the  pen,  secured  the  loan  of  his 
mother  till  he  could  get  his  tearful  chattel  to  his  home, 
without  attracting  a  curious  and  sympathetic  crowd 
on  the  street.  Once  there  his  little  slave  could  be 
quieted  by  a  sugar  plum  or  a  whip.  When  the  lad  was  at 
last  under  the  roof  of  his  new  master,  the  bereft  and 
sobbing  mother  was  led  back  to  the  desolate  pen  to  be 
sold  to  some  other  master  in  the  city  or  State,  or  to  some 
trader  who  would  take  her  down  to  the  rice  or  cotton 
plantations  of  the  South. 

But  when  the  war  came  on,  there  was  no  longer 
any  demand  for  slaves.  The  traffic  in  human  beings 
suddenly  ceased.  Lynch  shut  up  his  pen.  The  military 
authorities  seized  the  pen  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and 
Myrtle  Streets  and  transformed  it  into  a  military  prison. 
No  little  colored  boy  or  girl  was  ever  again  to  be  sold 
there.  The  place  hallowed  by  the  sighs  and  tears  of 
bondmen  and  of  motherless  children  was  for  a  time 
to  become  the  prison-house  of  those  who  had  bought  and 


Slaves  and  Slave-pens  187 

sold  their  fellow  men,  and  were  now  waging  unholy  war 
against  the  very  government  that  had  protected  them 
and  their  slaves,  —  the  government  that  had  com 
placently  caught  and  returned  to  them  their  chattels 
who  had  attempted  by  flight  to  cast  off  their  bondage 
and  secure  freedom  for  themselves  and  their  children 
amid  the  frosts  and  snows  of  Canada. 

One  morning  in  1862,  an  old  negro,  who  for  many 
years  had  been  a  drayman  for  a  mercantile  firm  on 
Second  Street,  was  full  of  merriment.  He  was  overheard 
mumbling  something  to  himself  and  every  now  and  then 
breaking  out  into  a  laugh.  His  employer  said,  "Joe, 
what  is  it?  What's  the  matter?  "  He  responded  with 
a  chuckle,  " Strange  tings  happen  des  days!"  "  So, 
what  things?  "  "  You  kno's  dat  slave-pen,  corner  Fifth 
an  Myrtle?"  "Yes."  "Well,  de  coPed  folks  used  to 
carry  in  tings  dar  fo  der  chillen  to  eat.  Dis  mawnin, 
boss,  I  seed  white  folks  carrying  in  tings  for  der  folks 
to  eat.  Ha!  ha!  strange  tings  happen  des  days." 
Sure  enough,  the  tables  were  turned.  Wrongs  were  being 
righted.  Justice,  poetical  justice,  was  being  meted  out. 
''  With  what  measure  ye  mete  it  shall  be  measured  to 
you  again,"  saith  the  Lord. 

"  Though  the  mills  of  God  grind  slowly,  yet  they  grind  exceed 
ing  small, 

Though  with  patience  he  stands  waiting,  with  exactness  grinds 
he  all." 


CHAPTER   XII 

PRISONS   AND   PRISONERS 

IT  is  not  my  purpose  to  give  a  complete  history  of  the 
military  prisons  in  St.  Louis  during  the  war.  There  were 
several  of  them.  They  were  for  the  most  part  improvised 
to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  hour.  The  military  authori 
ties  seized  certain  buildings  belonging  to  the  disloyal, 
which,  by  a  little  alteration,  were  easily  and  quickly  made 
suitable  for  the  reception  of  political  prisoners.  Among 
these  buildings  was  the  slave-pen,  mentioned  in  the  pre 
ceding  chapter,  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and  Myrtle  Streets. 
Another  was  the  McDowell  Medical  College  on  Gratiot 
Street. 

Dr.  McDowell,  who  founded  this  college,  and  had 
conducted  it  successfully  for  many  years,  was  one  of 
the  staunchest  of  pro-slavery  men,  and  a  pronounced 
and  bitter  secessionist.  He  was  tall  and  imposing  in 
appearance.  His  long,  white  locks,  thrust  back  of  his 
ears,  hung  down  over  his  coat  collar.  His  eyes  gleamed 
from  beneath  shaggy,  gray  eyebrows.  Any  stranger 
would  have  noted  him  in  a  crowd  as  an  unusual  charac 
ter.  Although  he  was  old,  his  step  had  the  elasticity 
of  youth.  He  was  an  antagonist  that  few  men  cared  to 
encounter.  For  years  he  had  been  active  in  politics. 
On  the  stump  he  at  times  denounced  those  of  opposite 
views  in  terms  of  unmeasured  severity.  On  one  occasion, 
having  some  apprehension  that  his  opprobrious  epi- 


Prisons  and  Prisoners  189 

thets  might  provoke  violent  opposition,  just  as  he 
began  his  speech,  as  a  warning  to  all  antagonists,  he 
drew  his  revolver  and  ostentatiously  laid  it  down  on 
the  desk  before  him  and  then  proceeded  with  his  fiery 
harangue.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  he  left  our  city 
for  the  more  congenial  society  of  the  Southern  Con 
federacy,  and  the  military  authorities  confiscated 
his  college  building  and  made  it  serve  the  cause  that  its 
owner  hated  and  denounced, 

The  military  prisons  of  St.  Louis  were  sanitary  and 
well  kept.  No  one  within  them  was  permitted  unneces 
sarily  to  suffer.  All  had  enough  wholesome  food.  The 
fare  of  the  prisoners  was  as  good  as  that  of  the  soldiers 
who  guarded  them.  In  winter,  so  far  as  it  was  possible, 
they  were  kept  warm  and  comfortably  clad.  Most  of 
them  were  incarcerated,  not  for  ordinary  criminal  acts, 
but  because  taken  in  arms  against  the  United  States,  or 
detected  in  aiding  those  who  were  intent  on  breaking 
up  the  Union.  Not  a  few  of  them  had  been  accustomed 
to  the  luxuries  of  life,  and  could  not  but  contrast  their 
prison  with  the  homes  from  which  they  had  come. 
Still,  while  they  inevitably  suffered  more  or  less,  taking 
everything  into  consideration,  the  government  treated 
them  with  great  leniency.  Their  friends  were  often 
permitted  not  only  to  minister  to  their  necessities,  but 
also  to  eke  out  their  prison  fare  with  the  delicacies  of 
the  season. 

But  a  few  incidents,  which  came  under  my  observa 
tion,  and  in  some  of  which  I  was  an  active  participant, 
will  more  clearly  reveal  what  transpired  in  those  military 
prisons  than  any  general  statements  that  I  could  make, 
however  full  and  just  they  might  be.  Early  in  the  war 
I  received  a  note  from  an  officer  at  the  Arsenal,  stating 
that  the  son  of  an  honored  Baptist  minister  of  Illinois 


190        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

was  a  prisoner  in  the  Guard-house  and  wished  me  to 
visit  him.  I  at  once  went  to  see  the  young  man  in  his 
prison-house.  I  found  him  in  a  wretched  plight.  The 
Guard-house  was  far  from  being  a  model  of  neatness. 
The  young  man's  clothing  was  begrimed  and  repulsive, 
his  face  and  hands  unwashed,  his  hair  unkempt,  and  to 
his  foot  was  riveted  a  chain  to  which  was  attached  a 
heavy  iron  ball.  He  was  cowed  in  spirit,  and  had  nearly 
lost  heart  and  hope.  He  timidly  told  me  his  story. 
He  was  a  boy  scarcely  out  of  his  teens.  He  had  patriot- 
icalty  enlisted  in  the  Union  army,  but  having  had  a  very 
imperfect  notion  of  the  rigorous  discipline  to  which 
every  soldier  must  necessarily  be  subjected,  he  had 
grown  weary  of  his  task  and  more  than  once  had  tried 
to  desert,  not  fully  realizing  how  heinous  his  offence 
was.  I  saw  at  a  glance  that,  instead  of  being  cast  down 
on  account  of  his  heavy  punishment,  he  ought  to  be 
grateful  that  he  had  not  been  court-martialed  and  shot. 
While  his  condition  aroused  my  sympathy,  I  laid  before 
him  the  gravity  of  his  crime,  then  vainly  pleaded  with 
the  military  authorities  for  his  release.  They  argued 
that  his  offence  was  so  great  he  richly  deserved  further 
punishment,  and  that  his  release  would  be  detrimental 
to  the  discipline  of  the  army.  The  boy  at  last  became 
very  sick  in  his  prison.  His  father,  large  both  in  body 
and  in  heart,  came,  and  so  put  the  case  of  his  son  before 
the  officers  in  command,  that  they  discharged  him 
from  the  army. 

This  case  was  a  type  of  many  others.  Some  young 
men,  among  the  hundreds  of  thousands  that  enlisted 
in  the  Northern  and  Southern  armies,  failed  adequately 
to  count  the  cost  of  what  they  so  enthusiastically 
undertook  to  do.  Two  young  men  of  St.  Louis,  who 
enlisted  in  the  Confederate  army,  were  doing  duty  under 


Prisons  and  Prisoners  191 

Price,  in  Missouri.  November  had  come  with  its  chilling 
storms  of  rain  and  sleet;  and  without  a  tent  they  were 
compelled  to  spend  a  night  in  the  shelterless  field. 
They  had  gathered  some  logs  and  sticks  and  were  en 
deavoring,  as  the  gusts  of  wind  swept  over  them,  to 
light  a  fire;  but  their  kindling  was  wet  and  the  wind 
would  quickly  blow  out  their  matches.  Shivering  with 
cold  that  seemed  to  pierce  to  the  very  marrow  of  their 
bones,  looking  in  blank  despair  on  those  wet  sticks 
and  logs,  one  of  them  said:  "  Joe,  soldiering  is  not  what 
it  is  cracked  up  to  be.  It  is  just  hell,  and  I  am  going  to 
get  out  of  it  as  soon  as  I  can."  Still  he  was  an  ardent 
Southerner,  but  just  for  a  little  his  burning  zeal  was 
damped  and  cooled  by  a  chill  November  rain. 

But  my  chief  experiences  were  with  Confederate 
prisoners.  While  the  disloyal  of  my  own  denomination 
abhorred  my  politics  and  exercised  at  best  a  rather 
strained  and  attenuated  brotherly  love  towards  me, 
when,  for  any  cause,  they  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  get 
into  prison,  they  often  urgently  appealed  to  me  for 
succor. 

Out  on  the  Gravois  road,  a  few  miles  west  of  the  city, 
lived  a  Baptist  preacher.  He  had  sandy  hair,  a  florid 
face,  a  muscular  frame,  and  was  about  six  feet  in 
height.  While  rough  in  his  manners,  he  was  a  man  of 
great  force.  Brought  up,  or  as  he  said,  " raised,"  in 
Mississippi,  he  was  an  uncompromising  rebel.  Late 
in  the  autumn  of  1861,  up  in  the  State,  at  the  town  of 
Mexico,  in  a  dark  night,  he  swiftly  rode  on  horseback 
through  the  lines  of  the  Federal  troops  stationed  there, 
and  as  he  did  so  holloed:  "Hurrah  for  Jeff  Davis." 
He  was  tracked  to  his  home  and  arrested.  He  appeared 
at  my  door  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in  a 
buggy,  sitting  between  two  United  States  officers. 


192        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

One  of  them  rang  my  bell  and  I  went  out  to  see  their 
prisoner.  While  he  heartily  despised  me  for  my  loyalty, 
he  had  evidently  concluded  that  I  was  just  the  man 
to  help  him  in  his  dire  extremity.  I  asked  the  officers 
on  what  charge  he  had  been  arrested.  They  said  that 
they  had  not  been  informed.  I  then  asked  him  the 
same  question,  and  he  said  that  he  did  not  know.  He 
told  no  lie,  but  at  the  same  time  he  could  have  very 
accurately  guessed.  Still,  he  could  not  have  been 
reasonably  expected  to  incriminate  himself  before  the 
officers  who  had  him  in  charge.  He  blubbered  over  his 
sad  plight  and  entreated  me  to  intercede  with  the 
provost  marshal  on  his  behalf.  His  tears,  however, 
were  not  on  account  of  his  misdemeanor;  he  evidently 
cried  because  he  had  been  caught.  Nevertheless,  I 
told  him  that  I  would  do  what  I  could  for  him. 

A  heavy  damp  snow  was  falling  fast.  I  had  to  go  on 
foot  through  it  fully  a  mile  and  a  half  to  intercede  for 
this  enemy  of  my  country;  while  he  rode  to  his  prison- 
house  in  a  buggy  at  the  government's  expense.  On  my 
way  I  met  one  of  my  deacons,  a  physician.  He  was  by 
birth  a  Kentuckian,  but  staunchly  loyal.  Thinking 
that  I  had  no  right  to  expose  myself  to  that  pitiless 
storm,  he  asked  me  in  peremptory  tones  where  I  was 
going.  I  told  him.  He  then  wished  to  know  what  offence 
the  imprisoned  preacher  had  committed.  I  replied 
that  I  did  not  certainly  know,  but  a  report  was  abroad 
that  he  had  ridden  in  a  dark  night  through  the  picket 
line  of  the  Federal  army  at  Mexico,  and,  having  been 
called  upon  to  halt,  had  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  had 
holloed  as  he  rode  at  breakneck  speed  to  elude  the 
musket-balls  of  the  soldiers,  " Hurrah  for  Jeff  Davis!  " 
The  deacon  cried  out  in  indignation,  "You  go  home  out 
of  this  storm  and  let  him  sweat."  But  I  could  not  break 


Prisons  and  Prisoners  193 

my  word  to  the  prisoner,  so  I  trudged  on,  saw  the 
provost  marshal,  and  pleaded  as  earnestly  as  I  could 
for  my  incarcerated  brother.  He  said  that  he  would 
grant  me  anything  that  I  might  ask  within  the  bounds 
of  reason,  but  on  account  of  the  imperative  demands 
upon  him,  he  could  not  try  the  prisoner  until  the  next 
day.  Having  done  my  best  at  the  office  of  the  provost 
marshal,  I  walked  a  mile  through  the  damp  snow, 
that  was  still  copiously  falling,  to  the  prison  at  the 
corner  of  Fifth  and  Myrtle  Streets,  to  make  known  to 
my  rebel  neighbor  the  result  of  my  effort  on  his  behalf. 
When  I  told  him  that  his  case  could  not  be  heard  till 
the  next  day,  he  said  in  a  disappointed  tone:  "  Then, 
I  must  stay  here  all  night,  —  it  is  a  horrible  place." 
"Yes,"  I  quickly  replied,  "it  is  a  slave-pen."  His 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  said,  "I  never  sold  a  slave." 
His  reply  made  me  regret  the  thrust  that  I  had  incon 
siderately  given  him.  But  in  a  moment  he  added, 
"I  wish  that  I  had  some  apples  and  tobacco."  Though 
I  did  not  use  tobacco  myself  I  went  through  the  storm 
about  a  mile,  purchased  for  him  out  of  my  own  pocket 
the  desired  articles,  carried  them  back  to  him,  and 
giving  him  my  best  wishes,  I  bade  him  good  day,  leaving 
him  in  that  old  slave-pen  to  his  tobacco,  apples  and 
thoughts. 

The  next  morning  he  was  brought  before  the  Military 
court,  which  having  heard  his  case,  through  its  great 
leniency  decided,  in  spite  of  his  grave  offence,  to  dis 
charge  him.  Returning  to  his  home  he  had  to  go  by 
my  door;  but  he  did  not  call  to  thank  me  for  what  I 
had  done  on  his  behalf ;  neither  did  he  write  me,  nor  did 
he  ever  in  any  way  express  the  slightest  gratitude  or 
appreciation  of  what  I  did  for  him  on  that  stormy  day  in 
order  to  secure  his  deliverance  from  the  slave-pen  prison. 


194        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

A  word  more  in  reference  to  so  extraordinary  a  char 
acter  may  not  be  amiss.  Many  months  afterwards 
he  had  the  brass  to  come  to  me  again.  Without  any 
allusion  ^o  our  relations  in  the  past,  he  at  once  went  on 
to  say,  that  General  Schofield  by  a  military  order  had 
taken  away  the  firearms  of  all  in  his  neighborhood,  and 
among  the  rest  his  shotgun  had  been  seized  and  con 
fiscated;  that  wild  turkeys  were  coming  into  his  corn 
field,  and  he  wished  me  to  ask  the  general  to  grant  him 
a  permit  to  buy  a  shotgun  so  that  he  might  shoot  them. 
Making  no  allusion  to  what  I  had  done  for  him  in  1861, 
I  asked  him,  "Are  you  a  Union  man?  "  He  replied, 
"Yes,  in  the  Constitution."  "Why,"  I  said,  "do  you 
say  in  the  Constitution?  Why  do  you  not  say,  yes, 
I  am  a  Union  man?  "  "Well,"  he  answered,  "the  fact 
is,  I  am  a  secessionist."  "Why,"  said  I,  "did  you  not 
then  honestly  say  so?"  "Oh!  I  don't  want  to  talk 
about  that,"  he  responded,  "I  want  to  get  a  shotgun." 
I  then  said  to  him,  "  I  will  ask  the  general  to  grant  you  a 
permit  to  get  one  on  the  condition  that,  if  Missouri 
becomes  a  free  State,  you  will  leave  it  forever."  He 
said  that  he  would  gladly  agree  to  that  since  he  would 
not  live  in  a  free  State.  So  I  went  with  him  to  the 
military  headquarters  and  said  to  the  general:  "This 
is  Rev.  Mr.  -  — ,  a  Baptist  minister;  under  your  order 
his  shotgun  was  taken  away  from  him.  The  wild 
turkeys  are  coming  into  his  cornfield  and  he  has  nothing 
to  shoot  them  with.  I  cannot  vouch  for  his  loyalty, 
but  I  feel  quite  sure  that  if  he  has  a  shotgun  he  will 
not  shoot  black-Republicans,  and  he  wishes  you  to 
give  him  a  permit  to  buy  one."  The  general  replied, 
"  I  will  grant  the  permit,  if  you  say  so."  "Well," 
I  responded,  "I  think  it  safe  to  do  so;"  and  writing 
out  the  permit  he  handed  it  to  the  secession  preacher, 


Prisons  and  Prisoners  195 

who  went  away  happy.  I  never  saw  him  again.  A 
friend  told  me  that  a  few  months  afterwards  he  heard 
him  bitterly  denounce  me  in  a  large  public  assembly. 

But  let  us  now  turn  to  another  scene.  On  Thanks 
giving  Day  of  1861,  a  secession  family,  living  next  door 
to  me,  determined  to  cheer  some  of  their  disloyal  friends 
shut  up  in  the  Gratiot  Street  prison,  by  setting  before 
them  an  abundant  and  delicious  dinner.  Their  neigh 
bors  of  like  political  views  threw  themselves  with  ardor 
into  the  scheme.  Early  in  the  day  baskets  full  of  appe 
tizing  food  were  brought  from  every  direction,  until 
these  parcels,  piled  one  upon  another,  quite  covered 
the  floor  of  their  front  hall.  Then  a  covered  wagon 
appeared  at  the  door.  Into  it  all  these  tempting  viands 
were  hastily  packed  and  carried  to  the  military  prison. 
Those  in  charge  of  them  asked  the  officer  of  the  day, 
if  they  could  give  the  prisoners  a  Thanksgiving  dinner. 
He  assured  them  that  it  would  give  him  great  pleasure 
to  receive  the  food  that  had  been  so  thoughtfully  and 
kindly  provided,  but  since  it  was  contrary  to  orders  to 
allow  any  outsiders  to  enter  the  prison,  he  would  him 
self  distribute  the  contents  of  the  baskets  and  be  careful 
that  the  most  needy  should  not  be  overlooked.  Two 
Iowa  regiments  that  had  just  arrived  had  been  sent 
down  to  Gratiot  Street  to  do  guard  duty.  They  were 
weary,  cold  and  hungry.  The  officer  who  had  received 
the  food,  sent  by  devoted  secession  women,  deeming 
these  newly  arrived  soldiers  to  be  the  most  needy,  gave 
to  them  the  roast  turkey,  fried  chicken,  mince  pies, 
cranberry  sauce,  roast  pig  and  apple  sauce,  and  kept 
the  disloyal  within  the  prison  walls  on  wholesome, 
but  coarser,  diet.  While  that  commanding  officer  told 
no  explicit  lie,  the  ethics  of  his  act  will  hardly  bear  very 
close  inspection.  He  may  have  justified  his  deception 


196        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

by  the  fact  that  we  were  in  a  state  of  war,  and  have 
erroneously  thought  that  war  excuses  "a  multitude 
of  sins." 

A  little  later,  one  of  my  ministerial  brethren  was 
lodged  in  the  same  prison.  After  having  been  there  for 
several  weeks,  being  in  great  anguish  of  spirit,  he  sent 
for  me.  When  I  met  him  he  entreated  me  to  secure  if 
possible  his  discharge  from  that  repulsive  place.  My 
heart  was  touched  at  his  distress,  and  I  assured  him 
that  the  military  authorities  would  gladly  release  him 
if  he  would  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United 
States.  I  urged  that  this  was  a  very  reasonable  demand 
on  the  part  of  the  government  that  had  protected  his 
property  and  person  for  many  years,  and  had  never 
interfered  in  the  slightest  degree  with  his  rights  or 
liberty.  He  was,  however,  unconvinced,  and  sullenly 
refused  to  do  what  I  urged  upon  him.  But  a  few  days 
afterwards,  sick  at  heart  from  lying  in  prison,  he  de 
cided  to  take  the  oath,  did  so,  and  was  discharged. 
But  when  he  went  out  to  his  freedom  his  conscience 
smote  him  for  what  he  had  done.  He  walked  along  the 
street  hesitatingly  and  in  zigzag  lines.  At  times  he 
stopped  and  gazed  intently  on  the  pavement.  One 
of  his  friends  met  him  and  asked:  "What  is  the  mat 
ter?  "  He  replied:  "Matter  enough,  I  was  over- 
persuaded  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  awful 
government  of  the  United  States,  and  feel  as  if  I  should 
go  to  hell." 

Such  were  some  of  the  military  prisons  and  such 
were  some  of  the  prisoners  in  St.  Louis  during  the  civil 
war.  Those  who  kept  these  prisons  and  guarded  these 
prisoners  were  patriots,  intent  on  preserving  the  Union; 
those  who  were  incarcerated  and  guarded  were  equally 
intent  on  disrupting  the  Union  and  establishing  the 


Prisons  and  Prisoners  197 

Southern  Confederacy,  whose  corner-stone,  according 
to  its  Vice-President,  was  slavery.  Both  could  not  have 
been  right,  but  both  believed  themselves  to  be  right, 
and  suffered  for  their  faith. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LYON   IN   CONFERENCE   AND   IN   CAMPAIGN 

WAR  really  began  in  Missouri  at  the  taking  of  Camp 
Jackson.  But  many  hoped  against  hope  that  the  fire 
that  then  began  to  flame  might  be  dampened  and 
extinguished.  Eminent  citizens  of  St.  Louis  besought 
the  Governor  and  his  chief  of  staff,  General  Price, 
to  ask  for  a  conference  with  General  Lyon,  that,  by  a 
frank,  honest  interchange  of  views,  some  basis  for  peace 
might  be  discovered.  This  these  officers  reluctantly 
consented  to  do.  When  their  request  was  presented 
to  General  Lyon,  some  men,  who  commanded  his  confi 
dence,  urged  him  to  grant  it,  in  order  that  no  one  in 
the  future  might  be  able  to  say  that  he  refused  to  con 
sider  any  measure  by  which  war  might  have  been  hon 
orably  averted.  Lyon,  yielding  to  this  reasonable 
solicitation,  agreed  to  participate  in  the  proposed  con 
ference.  But  with  him  time  was  precious.  Harney  had 
relinquished  his  command  of  the  department  on  May 
30th,  and  Lyon  had  assumed  it  on  the  following  day. 
Since  that  time  he  had  been  exceedingly  busy  in  gather 
ing  and  equipping  troops.  To  him  war  in  Missouri, 
probably  fierce  and  protracted,  was  inevitable,  and  he 
was  bending  every  energy  upon  the  work  of  preparation, 
that  he  might  be  able  to  wage  it  successfully.  He  con 
sidered  any  suspension  of  his  activity  as  intolerable. 
Whatever  was  done  by  way  of  compromise  must  be 


BRIGADIER-GENERAL    NA1HAMEL    LYON. 


[Page  198 


Lyon  in  Conference  and  in  Campaign     199 

done  without  delay.  So  he  fixed  an  early  day  for  the 
solicited  conference.  He  announced  that  if  the  Governor 
and  his  general,  or  either  of  them,  "  should  visit  St. 
Louis  on,  or  before,  the  12th  of  June,  in  order  to  hold 
an  interview  with  him  for  the  purpose  of  effecting, 
if  possible,  a  pacific  solution  of  the  troubles  in  Missouri, 
they  should  be  free  from  molestation  or  arrest  during 
their  journey  to  St.  Louis,  and  their  return  from  St. 
Louis  to  Jefferson  City."  Thus  assured  of  safe-conduct, 
in  the  afternoon  of  June  10th,  Governor  Jackson,  Gen 
eral  Price,  and  one  of  the  Governor's  aides-de-camp, 
Thomas  L.  Snead,  left  the  State  capital  for  our  city. 
On  the  following  morning,  June  llth,  they  apprised 
Lyon  that  they  were  at  the  Planters'  Hotel.  In  the 
afternoon  of  that  day,  the  conference  took  place.1 
The  fact  of  that  vitally  important  meeting  became  gen 
erally  known.  All  intelligent  persons  in  the  city  were 
full  of  interest,  not  to  say  anxiety,  in  reference  to  the 
outcome. 

Both  parties  to  the  rapidly  developing  national 
conflict  were  ably  and  fittingly  represented  in  the  con 
ference.  The  Unionists  felt  that  their  interests,  iden 
tical  with  the  national  interests,  would  be  wisely  guarded 
by  General  Lyon,  Colonel  Blair  and  Major  Conant. 
General  Lyon  opened  the  conference,  stating  that  it 
would  be  conducted  on  the  side  of  the  Union  by  Colonel 
Blair,  than  whom  no  one  was  better  equipped  for  the 
responsible  task.  But  as  the  deliberations  between 
these  men  of  irreconcilable  views  proceeded,  Lyon,  who 
had  profoundly  studied  the  underlying  questions  and 
principles  that  divided  the  Federals  and  the  Confeder 
ates,  and  was  by  nature  aggressive  and  inclined  to  dis 
putation,  gradually  assumed  the  part  of  leader  in  that 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  I,  p.  363. 


200      A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

momentous  interchange  of  views,  while  Mr.  Blair  lapsed 
into  silence,  a  satisfied  and  admiring  listener.  State  and 
national  sovereignty  there  met  face  to  face.  They  were 
opposites.  Both  could  not  be  true.  Hours  passed  in 
seeking  some  basis  of  agreement,  but  none  was  found. 
So  long  as  each  party  held  his  view  unflinchingly, 
there  could  be  no  common  standing  ground.  Colonel 
Blair,  afterwards  speaking  of  the  conference,  declared 
that  he  said  little  or  nothing,  and  did  not  need 
to;  that  General  Lyon,  in  the  most  thorough 
and  lucid  manner,  analyzed  every  proposal  submitted 
by  the  Governor,  pointed  out  every  subterfuge  and 
held  up  to  the  light  every  fallacy.  The  main  con 
tention  of  the  secessionists  was  that  the  United  States 
had  no  right  to  organize  and  arm  Home  Guards,  nor  to 
send  troops  into,  and  to  occupy,  the  territory  of  sovereign 
Missouri;  if  General  Lyon  would  agree  to  these  vital 
propositions,  on  other  grounds  they  were  willing  for  the 
sake  of  peace  to  make  what  seemed  to  them  great  and 
humiliating  concessions.  But  what  they  asked  no 
loyal  officer  of  the  United  States  army  would  or  could 
grant.  So,  after  the  conference  had  lasted  nearly  five 
hours,  and  all  the  views  presented  had  been  thoroughly 
discussed,  Lyon  closed  this  memorable,  crucial  debate 
by  saying:  "  Rather"  (he  was  still  seated  and  spoke 
deliberately,  slowly  and  with  peculiar  emphasis)  "rather 
than  concede  to  the  State  of  Missouri  the  right  to  demand 
that  my  government  shall  not  enlist  troops  within  her 
limits,  or  bring  troops  into  the  State  whenever  it  pleases, 
or  move  its  troops  at  its  own  will  into,  out  of,  or  through 
the  State ;  rather  than  concede  to  the  State  of  Missouri 
for  one  single  instant  the  right  to  dictate  to  my  govern 
ment  in  any  matter  however  unimportant,  I  would  " 
(rising  as  he  said  this,  and  pointing  in  turn  to  every  one 


Lyon  in  Conference  and  in  Campaign     201 

in  the  room)  "see  you,  and  you,  and  you,  and  you,  and 
you,  and  every  man,  woman  and  child  in  the  State 
dead  and  buried."  Then  turning  to  the  Governor,  he 
said:  "This  means  war.  In  an  hour  one  of  my  officers 
will  call  for  you  and  conduct  you  out  of  my  lines." 
And  then,  without  another  word,  without  an  inclination 
of  the  head,  without  even  a  look,  he  turned  upon  his 
heel  and  strode  out  of  the  room,  rattling  his  spurs  and 
clanking  his  sabre.1 

The  report  of  the  abortive  deliberations  of  the  con 
ference  spread  with  lightning  speed  through  the  city  and 
State.  But  notwithstanding  the  untoward  result,  it 
brought  relief  to  all  loyal  hearts;  for  while  all  desired 
peace,  a  host  of  true  men  and  women  preferred  war  to 
peace  with  dishonor.  Like  their  general,  rather  than 
tamely  yield  the  vital  question  at  stake,  they  were 
ready  to  sacrifice  their  property  and  lay  down  their 
lives.  It  was  inspiring  to  feel  the  touch  and  thrill  of  this 
unselfish  devotion. 

The  Governor  and  his  attendants  at  once  returned  to 
Jefferson  City.  They  reached  their  destination  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  12th.  The  Governor  at 
once  issued  a  proclamation,  calling  for  fifty  thousand 
volunteers  to  repel  the  invasion  of  the  State.2  For  fear 
of  the  speedy  coming  of  Lyon  by  rail,  General  Price 
ordered  the  railroad  bridges  across  the  Osage  and  Gas 
conade  to  be  burned.  Jefferson  City  was  hastily  evac 
uated.  The  archives  of  the  State  were  removed,  and 
such  material  of  war  as  had  been  gathered  at  the  capital, 
including  even  the  armory  and  workshop.  The  rebel 
forces  were  concentrated  at  Boonville,  farther  to  the 
west,  for  the  purpose  of  holding  that  place  and  the 

1  Snead,  The  Fight  for  Missouri,  pp.  199-200. 
'Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  I,  Doc.,  p.  363. 


202        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Missouri  River  long  enough  at  least  for  the  secessionists 
in  the  northern  counties  of  the  commonwealth  to  rally 
to  the  support  of  the  fugitive  State  government.  The 
Governor  desired  if  possible  to  segregate  and  solidify 
the  disloyal,  and  so  carry  the  State  by  force  over  into 
the  Southern  Confederacy. 

But  the  lynx-eyed,  alert  Lyon  thwarted  that  scheme. 
When  he  left  the  Planters'  Hotel  in  the  evening  of  June 
llth,  he  at  once  telegraphed  the  national  War  Depart 
ment  for  five  thousand  additional  stand  of  arms,  and 
for  authority  to  enlist  more  troops  in  the  State.1  What 
he  asked  was  granted  without  hesitation  or  delay. 
The  next  day,  with  characteristic  energy,  he  prepared 
his  small  army  for  an  offensive  campaign.  A  part  of  it, 
on  the  13th,  he  ordered  to  Springfield,  in  southwest 
Missouri,  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  Price,  whom  he  ex 
pected  to  drive  in  that  direction.  Knowing  that  he 
could  not  use  the  Pacific  Railroad,  since  its  main  bridges 
had  been  destroyed,  on  the  same  "day,  with  the  rest  of 
his  army,  he  moved  up  the  Missouri  by  steamboat. 
On  the  15th,  he  quietly  took  possession  of  Jefferson  City, 
and  garrisoned  it.  On  Sunday,  the  16th,  he  was  steam 
ing  on  toward  Boonville.  On  Monday,  a  few  miles  south 
of  that  city,  he  met  and  easily  dispersed  the  rebel  army, 
which,  having  been  hastily  gathered,  was  raw,  undisci 
plined,  and  poorly  armed.  The  collision  between  these 
hostile  forces  did  not,  in  the  sacrifice  of  life,  reach  the 
dignity  of  a  battle.  Only  two  or  three  on  each  side 
were  killed  and  a  few  wounded.  The  Union  army, 
however,  took  a  goodly  company  of  prisoners,  together 
with  considerable  war  material  and  camp  equipage; 
and  this  comparatively  bloodless  conflict  secured  the 
end  that  from  the  beginning  Lyon  had  clearly  in  view. 

1 W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  384. 


Lyon  in  Conference  and  in  Campaign     203 

By  taking  Camp  Jackson  in  May,  he  had  suppressed 
the  open  disloyalty  of  St.  Louis  and  the  counties  adja 
cent  to  it,  assuring  their  support  of  the  Union;  by  dis 
persing  Price's  gathering  host  at  Boonville  he  cleared 
the  Missouri  River  of  all  formidable  hostile  forces; 
isolated  the  counties  north  of  the  river,  which  were 
rich,  populous,  and  largely  disloyal;  drove  the  fleeing 
Governor  with  his  general  and  army  panic-stricken 
into  the  extreme  southwest  of  the  State;  and  sent  Gen 
eral  Price,  with  several  members  of  his  staff,  on  a  flying 
expedition  into  northwestern  Arkansas,  to  urge  General 
McCulloch  of  the  Confederate  army  to  invade  Missouri 
and  deliver  him  and  his  retreating  troops  from  utter 
disaster. 

Lyon  and  his  army  were  received  with  exultant 
gladness  by  the  many  loyal  citizens  of  Boonville,  and 
on  the  18th  he  issued  a  proclamation,  assuring  all  that 
were  peaceful  and  law-abiding  of  his  protection.  He 
also  paroled  the  prisoners  that  he  had  taken,  putting 
them  under  oath  not  again  to  take  up  arms  against  the 
United  States. 

Without  going  further  into  detail,  which  would  be  aside 
from  our  object,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  Lyon,  follow 
ing  up  his  victory  at  Boonville  as  best  he  could,  with  the 
inadequate  force  under  his  command,  finally  made  his 
headquarters  at  Springfield.  There  we  must  leave  him 
for  a  time.  Every  act  that  he  had  thus  far  performed, 
every  step  of  his  victorious  march,  had  been  watched 
with  breathless  interest  by  both  the  loyal  and  disloyal 
of  St.  Louis.  The  former  well  knew  that  his  victory 
was  theirs;  the  latter  considered  his  triumph  their 
defeat. 

But  while  Lyon  with  unusual  energy  and  startling 
celerity  was  prosecuting  his  victorious  campaign  in  the 


204       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

State,  a  lamentable  event  within  the  city  saddened  all 
hearts.  On  the  east  side  of  Seventh  Street,  between 
Olive  and  Locust,  in  a  substantial  brick  building, 
was  the  Recorder's  Court.  On  Saturday,  June  15th, 
a  company  of  volunteer  soldiers,  belonging  to  the 
regiment  of  Colonel  Kallman,  was  marching  by,  when 
somebody,  from  a  window  of  the  story  just  above  the 
court-room,  fired  a  revolver  into  the  ranks  of  these 
armed  volunteers.  They  were  raw  and  undisciplined. 
Being  Germans,  they  were  bitterly  hated  by  the  seces 
sionists.  They  had  become  sensitive  and  vindictive 
under  the  stinging  taunts  which  had  been  wantonly 
hurled  at  them  by  their  hostile  neighbors.  So  now, 
when  unexpectedly  fired  upon,  exasperated,  and  evi 
dently  without  a  moment's  thought,  they  turned  and 
fired  into  the  building,  from  which  they  had  been 
assailed.  They  did  not  stop  to  think  from  which  story 
the  hostile  shot  had  come,  and  emptied  their  muskets 
into  the  room  occupied  by  the  innocent  recorder. 
He  and  three  other  guiltless  citizens  were  instantly 
killed,  while  two  others  were  mortally  wounded  and 
another  sadly  injured.1  Such  not  unprovoked,  but 
inconsiderate,  action  on  the  part  of  these  Union  soldiers 
for  the  time  being  materially  damaged  the  cause  of 
the  loyal  in  our  city  and  put  weapons  into  the  hands 
of  the  secessionists.  Nevertheless,  all  conservative 
citizens  on  either  side  were  grateful  that  an  event  so 
ill-starred  did  not  lead,  as  it  naturally  might  have  done, 
to  general  bloody  conflict  in  our  streets. 

The  whole  affair  was  investigated;  not  very  thor 
oughly,  many  of  us  thought.  Those  who  attempted 
it,  found  it  difficult  to  get  at  the  bottom  facts. 
Their  investigation  at  last  came  to  a  rather  inglorious 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  D.  of  E.,  Vol,  I,  pp.  105-106. 


Lyon  in  Conference  and  in  Campaign     205 

end,  leaving  the  community  in  doubt  as  to  whether 
any  one  fired  upon  the  soldiers.    Several  in  the  neighbor 
hood  testified  that  they  saw  no  one  shoot  from  the 
building;    but  one  man  declared  that  he  saw  the  shot 
from  the  second-story  window,  and  described  the  posi 
tion  of  the  man's  arm  when  he  discharged  his  revolver 
into  the  ranks  of  the  unoffending  soldiers;    but  there 
was  no  other  witness,  aside  from  the  soldiers  them 
selves,  to  confirm  this  testimony,  and  as  only  in  the 
mouth  of  two  or  three  witnesses  so  grave  a  matter 
could   be   satisfactorily   established,   the   investigators 
returned  the  Scotch  verdict,    "  Not  proven."     This, 
however,   was   quite  unsatisfactory  to  thinking  men. 
Very  few  believed  that  these  soldiers,  without  provoca 
tion,  fired  into  the  room  of  a  civil  magistrate  with  whom 
they  were  unacquainted,  and  against  whom  they  could 
have  had  no  ill  will.    Still,  the  lamentable  event  was 
part  and  parcel  of  the  mad  effort  to  dismember  the 
Republic,  and  hardly  surprising  in  a  city  where  earnest, 
passionate  men  on  both  sides  of  the  great  national 
conflict  daily  looked  each  other  in  the  eye.    But  as  it  has 
often  happened,  so  in  this  sad  case,  the  innocent  suf 
fered,  while  the  undetected  guilty  went  free.    However, 
in  the  onrushing  tide  of  events,  the  deplorable  incident 
was  soon  lost  sight  of  and  forgotten. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

FREMONT   AND   FIASCO 

ON  the  3d  of  July,  the  States  and  territories  west  of 
the  Mississippi  River  and  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
including  New  Mexico,  were  constituted  the  Western 
Department,  under  the  command  of  Major-General 
John  Charles  Fremont.1  On  the  26th  he  arrived  in  our 
city  and  took  up  the  vastly  important  work  confided 
to  his  hands.  All  the  loyal  wished  him  well.  Many  of 
them  received  him  with  exultation.  He  came  with 
prestige.  He  was  a  renowned  path  finder  to  the  Pacific. 
He  had  been  the  standard-bearer  of  the  Republican 
party  in  1856,  and  though  defeated  had  polled  a  heavy 
vote  in  the  most  intelligent  and  progressive  States  of 
the  Union.  No  one  ever  assumed  military  command 
under  more  favorable  auspices. 

He  at  once  appointed  Colonel  McNeil  commandant  of 
St.  Louis,2  that  he  himself,  measurably  free  from  local 
demands,  might  expend  his  energies  in  directing  the 
larger  affairs  of  his  department.  The  best  volunteers 
of  the  West  rapidly  and  enthusiastically  gathered 
around  him.  He  gave  himself  without  reserve  to 
his  great  and  difficult  task.  But  from  the  start  he 
appeared  to  be  vainglorious.  His  headquarters  were 
luxurious.  Immediately  around  him  he  gathered  a 

*W.  R.  S.I,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  390. 
2  P.  410. 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  207 

body-guard  of  about  three  hundred  men,  some  of  whom 
were  foreigners  with  jaw-breaking  names.  It  was  later 
shown  that  most  of  them  were  enlisted  not  to  serve  the 
United  States,  but  simply  the  general.1  He  and  they, 
in  full  uniform,  on  horseback,  often  went  thundering 
along  our  streets,  kicking  up  a  cloud  of  dust,  or  else 
making  the  mud  fly.  At  Fremont's  headquarters  were 
stationed  so  many  sentinels  that  it  was  exceedingly 
difficult  to  find  access  to  his  person.  Eminent  citizens 
of  St.  Louis  early  began  to  complain  that  he  ignored 
both  them  and  the  important  questions  on  which  they 
needed  his  counsel. 

Moreover,  there  was  a  marked  lack  of  system  in  all 
that  he  undertook  to  do.  He  evidently  had  little  talent 
for  details;  so  everything  in  the  encampments  of  his 
volunteer  soldiers  was  in  confusion.  All  this  was  in 
auspicious  and  disheartening.  We  had  expected  so 
much  and  were  getting  so  little. 

The  general  soon  reported  to  the  authorities  at 
Washington  that  his  department  was  in  a  critical  con 
dition;2  that  troops  of  the  Southern  Confederacy  in 
large  numbers  were  moving  northward  to  aid  the  dis 
loyal  of  Missouri;  that  General  Pillow  threatened  to 
invade  the  State  from  the  southeast,  General  Hardee 
from  the  south,  and  General  McCulloch  from  the  south 
west;  and  that  while  the  volunteers  gathering  at  St. 
Louis  to  meet  the  invaders  were  numerous,  many  of 
them  were  unarmed. 

In  the  meantime,  Lyon  at  Springfield,  with  a  clear 
view  of  the  whole  situation,  seeing  that  by  far  the  most 
formidable  rebel  force,  under  McCulloch  and  Price, 
was  moving  upon  him  from  the  southwest,  pleaded  in 

1 W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  612,  632,  540  to  649,  568. 
s  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  409-410. 


208        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

vain  with  Fremont  to  re-enforce  his  altogether  inade 
quate  army  by  at  least  one  or  two  regiments  and  to  pay 
and  clothe  his  soldiers.1  Fremont's  assistant  adjutant- 
general,  J.  C.  Kelton,  wrote  him  at  Cairo,  August  2d: 
"  General  Lyon  wants  soldiers,  soldiers,  soldiers.  So 
says  Colonel  Hammer,  who  has  just  arrived  from  Spring 
field."  2  The  same  day  Fremont  wrote  General  Scott: 
"  Force  large  in  front  of  General  Lyon."  But  all  was 
without  avail.  The  Confederates,  by  a  feint  at  New 
Madrid,  in  the  southeastern  corner  of  the  State,  had 
deceived  him.  Pillow  was  reported  as  being  there  with 
eleven  thousand  men.3  He  was  led  to  believe  that  the 
main  invasion  of  our  commonwealth  was  to  be  at  that 
point. 

So  the  general  called  into  his  service  eight  river 
steamboats,  loaded  them  with  an  abundance  of  provi 
sions,  camp  equipage,  ammunition  and  arms,  and  put 
on  board  about  five  thousand  soldiers,  infantry  and  ar 
tillery.  The  Stars  and  Stripes  waved  proudly  over  each 
boat,  while  over  the  "  City  of  Alton,"  "  the  flag  steamer," 
on  which  were  the  general  and  his  staff,  waved  also 
the  Union  Jack  and  a  broad  pennon.  On  August  1st  this 
warlike  fleet,  to  us  an  unusual  and  imposing  sight,  began 
to  move  down  the  Mississippi.4  The  crowds  on  the  levee 
cheered,  waved  handkerchiefs,  and  threw  up  hats.  But 
not  a  few  of  the  more  thoughtful,  shaking  their  heads, 
said,  "  We  believe  that  Lyon,  whose  urgent  pleadings 
have  been  unheeded,  and  to  whom  no  re-enforcements 
have  been  sent,  is  right  in  thinking  that  the  main  inva 
ding  rebel  force  is  not  at  New  Madrid,  in  the  southeast, 
but  comes  from  the  southwest  to  attack  him  and  his 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  407-409. 

2  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  419-424. 

3  Pp.  419-423. 

4  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  II,  D.  of  E.,  p.  62,  Doc.  153,  p.  467. 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  209 

brave  little  army  at  Springfield."  And  "This  ostenta 
tious  expedition  of  Fremont,"  they  added,  "is  in  utter 
contrast  with  the  silent,  swift,  effective  movements  of 
the  neglected  Lyon."  Moreover,  some  of  the  ablest 
Union  men  of  the  city,  half  disheartened  by  the  display 
on  the  river,  exclaimed,  "Fuss  and  feathers!"  Their 
criticism  may  have  been  somewhat  passionate,  and  per 
haps  uncalled  for,  but  the  event  justified  their  main 
contention.  There  was  only  a  handful  of  the  enemy 
at  New  Madrid.  But  these  Confederates  had  shrewdly 
played  their  game.  They  had  diverted  the  attention  of 
the  Union  general  from  McCulloch  and  Price  to  them 
selves,  and  made  it  difficult  for  him  now  to  re-enforce 
Lyon  before  he  must  meet  the  enemy.  Enlightened 
by  experience,  Fremont  ordered  his  fleet  back  to  St. 
Louis.  Still,  his  expedition  was  not  bootless.  While 
he  found  but  a  few  hundred  rebels  at  New  Madrid, 
and  these  escaped  him  unscathed,  he  laid,  as  he  wisely 
intended  to  do,  the  foundation  of  a  military  encampment 
across  the  river  at  Cairo,  Illinois,  from  which  later  began 
the  great  campaign  under  Grant  down  the  east  bank 
of  the  Mississippi.  Nevertheless  the  general's  ostenta 
tious  and  ill-starred  movements  disgusted  many  of  the 
loyal  of  the  city.  Perhaps  they  did  not  fully  understand 
him,  but  they  saw  enough  to  evoke  their  heated  opposi 
tion  to  him;  some  indeed  defended  him,  for  he  had  true 
and  warm  friends,  but  others  sharply  condemned  him; 
while  the  overawed  and  silenced  secessionists,  still  by 
thousands  among  us,  looked  on  with  satisfaction. 

In  the  meantime,  the  clear-sighted,  intrepid  Lyon 
at  Springfield  was  left  to  shift  for  himself.  He  concluded 
that  retreat  would  be  hazardous,  if  not  absolutely  de 
structive,  in  the  face  of  a  hostile  force  nearly  three  times 
as  great  as  his  own,  and  unhesitatingly  decided  to  take 


210        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

the  initiative  instead  of  simply  standing  on  the  defen 
sive.  His  matured  purpose  was  quickly  executed. 
The  army  of  Price  and  McCulloch  was  at  Wilson's 
Creek,  about  nine  or  ten  miles  south  of  Springfield. 
He  determined  to  move  upon  it  in  two  columns,  the 
first  under  himself,  the  second  under  Colonel  Siegel. 
The  advance  was  to  begin  about  sunset  of  the  9th; 
the  attack  was  to  be  made  at  daylight  the  next  morn 
ing.  Having  given  his  orders,  he  calmly  wrote  General 
Fremont  the  following  memorable  letter.  It  was  his 
last. 

"  I  retired  to  this  place,  as  I  before  informed  you, 
reaching  here  on  the  5th.  The  enemy  followed  to 
within  ten  miles  of  here.  He  has  taken  a  strong  position 
and  is  recruiting  his  supply  of  horses,  mules,  and  pro 
visions,  by  forays  into  the  surrounding  country:  his 
large  force  of  mounted  men  enabling  him  to  do  this 
without  much  annoyance  from  me.  I  find  my  position 
extremely  embarrassing,  and  am  at  present  unable 
to  determine  whether  I  shall  be  able  to  maintain  my 
ground,  or  be  forced  to  retire.  I  can  resist  any  attack 
from  the  front,  but,  if  the  enemy  were  to  surround  me, 
I  must  retire.  I  shall  hold  my  ground  as  long  as  possible, 
though  I  may,  without  knowing  how  far,  endanger  the 
safety  of  my  entire  force,  with  its  valuable  material, 
being  induced,  by  the  important  considerations  in 
volved,  to  take  this  step.  The  enemy  showed  himself 
in  considerable  force  yesterday  five  miles  from  here, 
and  has  doubtless  a  full  purpose  of  attacking  me."  l 

It  has  remained  for  an  officer  of  the  Confederate 
army,  Thomas  L.  Snead,  in  his  comment  on  this  letter 
to  utter  perhaps  the  most  eloquent  eulogy  pronounced 

lPeckham's  General  Nathaniel  Lyon  and  Missouri  in  1861,  pp. 
324-825. 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  211 

on  General  Lyon.  "  Not  one  word  about  the  desperate 
battle  that  he  was  to  fight  on  the  morrow;  not  one 
fault-finding  utterance;  not  a  breath  of  complaint! 
But  true  to  his  convictions;  true  to  his  flag;  true  to 
the  Union  men  of  Missouri  who  confided  in  and  followed 
him;  true  to  himself;  and  true  to  duty,  he  went  out 
to  battle  against  a  force  twice  as  great  as  his  own,  with 
a  calmness  that  was  as  pathetic  as  his  courage  was  sub 
lime."  1 

The  next  morning  before  sunrise,  the  10th  of  August, 
he  vigorously  attacked  the  enemy,  who  were  taken 
utterly  by  surprise.  It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  my 
purpose  to  attempt  any  description  of  the  fierce  and 
bloody  battle  that  followed.  It  raged  for  fully  six 
hours.  According  to  the  most  conservative  estimates, 
Lyon  lost  of  his  small  army  of  four  or  five  thousand  men 
more  than  thirteen  hundred  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing.  The  Confederates  lost  still  more.  Lyon  was 
twice  wounded,  and  afterwards,  while  leading  a  regiment 
of  his  troops  in  a  desperate  charge,  was  shot  through 
the  heart  and  instantly  killed;  but  even  after  his  death 
his  plucky  little  army  fought  on  for  a  time  unflinchingly, 
and  with  a  large  measure  of  success.  Nor  did  they  aban 
don  the  well-contested  field  until  the  ammunition  of  a 
large  part  of  their  force  was  utterly  exhausted.  Even 
then  they  retreated  in  good  order.  They  had  inflicted 
a  blow  so  terrible  and  unexpected  that  the  Confederates 
were  unwilling  or  unable  to  pursue  them.  Having  rested 
a  few  hours  at  Springfield,  they  retreated  unmolested 
to  Rolla,  with  all  their  wagons,  provisions,  and  muni 
tions  of  war;  while  McCulloch  and  Price  sat  down  at 
Springfield  and  wrote  reports  of  their  great  victory  at 
Wilson's  Creek.  Some  of  their  subordinate  officers  in 

1  Snead,  The  Fight  for  Missouri,  pp.  266-267. 


212        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

their  reports  declared  with  refreshing  frankness  that 
Lyon,  in  his  attack  on  their  camp,  had  completely 
surprised  them. 

A  few  days  later  came  the  last  act  of  this  sad  drama. 
The  body  of  General  Lyon  was  brought  back  to  us. 
It  was  borne  through  the  city  and  across  the  Mississippi 
to  the  railroad  depot.  It  was  escorted  by  prominent 
citizens,  city  officials,  regiments  of  soldiers,  infantry, 
cavalry  and  artillery,  marching  with  arms  reversed. 
Conspicuous  in  this  martial  array  was  General  Fremont, 
with  his  staff  and  body-guard.  The  bands  played 
plaintive  dirges.  The  bells  tolled.  The  national  flags 
of  the  city,  encampments  and  Arsenal  were  draped 
and  at  half-mast.  A  great,  sad,  silent  throng,  on  either 
side  of  the  street  along  which  the  funeral  cortege  moved, 
stood  with  heads  uncovered.  The  dust  of  one  of  the 
best  friends  the  loyal  of  St.  Louis  ever  had  thus  passed 
on  its  way  to  burial  in  Connecticut,  the  native  State 
of  the  dauntless  hero,  who  poured  out  his  heart's  blood 
at  Wilson's  Creek  to  save  our  commonwealth  and  city 
from  secession.  But  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  the 
present  generation,  we  were  then  and  there  so  utterly 
divided  in  judgment  and  feeling  that  while  many 
mourned,  some  rejoiced;  tears  stained  some  cheeks, 
smiles  rippled  across  some  faces. 

And  during  all  this  pageant  of  mourning  our  hearts 
bled  afresh,  as  we  remembered  that  the  ear  of  Fremont 
had  been  apparently  deaf  to  Lyon  when  he  pleaded  for 
at  least  one  more  regiment  of  troops,  and  was  left  un 
aided  to  fight,  against  great  odds,  a  forlorn  and  desperate 
battle  in  which  he  laid  down  his  life.  We  knew  then,  as 
we  know  now,  that  Fremont  could  have  granted  the  re 
quest  of  his  subordinate;  that  General  Pope  had  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  State  an  army  of  fully  nine  thousand 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  213 

men  that  were  not  just  then  imperatively  needed  there; 
that  Fremont  called  for  and  put  under  his  own  immediate 
command  a  part  of  that  force;  that  he  sent  troops  at 
that  time  into  different  parts  of  the  State;  that  two 
regiments  were  guarding  Rolla,  and  that  one  of  them, 
without  jeopardizing  any  important  interest,  could  have 
been  sent  to  Lyon;  but  for  some  occult  reason  he  re 
fused  to  lift  a  ringer  in  time  to  help  his  capable  subor 
dinate,  but  abandoned  him  to  defeat  and  death.  To 
be  sure,  on  August  5th,  he  ordered  a  regiment  of  a  thou 
sand  men  at  Fort  Leavenworth  to  re-enforce  Lyon,1 
but  that  was  too  late.  There  was  no  railroad  connection. 
The  order  had  to  be  sent  by  express.  Before  the  regi 
ment  had  gotten  half  way  to  Springfield  the  fate  of 
Lyon  was  sealed.  On  the  same  date,  August  5th, 
he  ordered  Colonel  Stevenson,  commanding  the  Seventh 
Missouri  Volunteers,  to  report  to  Lyon  with  despatch. 
When  the  colonel  reached  Rolla,  he  found  no  transpor 
tation  for  his  troops.  They  could  not  reach  their  desti 
nation  in  time.  The  remembrance  of  this  on  that 
funeral  march  rankled  in  every  loyal  heart. 

But  when  our  general  reported  to  the  War  Department 
the  battle  of  Wilson's  Creek,  in  just  and  fitting  words 
he  eulogized  the  slain  hero.  In  a  measure  that  dulled 
the  edge  of  our  resentment  towards  him,  and  partially 
revived  our  wavering  confidence  in  him.  We  were  still 
further  reconciled  to  him,  when,  seeing  the  anarchy  by 
which  we  were  threatened,  and  believing  that  certain 
inimical  movements  among  us  could  not  be  adequately 
and  decisively  dealt  with  by  ordinary  civil  processes, 
on  August  14th,  he  declared  martial  law  in  St.  Louis 
and  St.  Louis  County.  At  that  time,  according  to  the 
most  conservative  estimate,  there  were  in  our  city  at 

1W.  K.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  425. 


214        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

least  eight  thousand  pronounced  and  active  secessionists, 
and  seven  thousand  of  them  were  reported  to  be  armed 
with  weapons  of  various  kinds.1  They  were  prepared, 
whenever  their  compatriots  in  rebellion  should  attack 
the  city  from  without,  to  join  hands  with  them  by  a 
vigorous  movement  from  within.  So  while  the  necessity 
of  martial  law  was  regretted  by  all,  its  proclamation 
came  as  a  distinct  relief  and  assurance  to  all  the  loyal. 

Major  J.  McKinstry  of  the  United  States  army  was 
appointed  provost  marshal.  He  was  an  able,  faithful 
officer  and  discharged  his  delicate  and  weighty  duties 
with  fearlessness  and  thoughtful  discrimination.  He  at 
once  issued  a  proclamation,  declaring  that  he  should 
not  interfere  with  the  operation  of  the  civil  law,  except 
in  cases  where  that  law  was  found  inadequate  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  public  peace  and  safety.2  He 
followed  this  considerate  and  reassuring  manifesto  with 
orders  forbidding  under  heavy  penalties  all  persons  not 
in  the  military  service  of  the  United  States,  or  in  the 
regularly  constituted  police  of  the  city,  carrying  con 
cealed  weapons,  and  prohibiting  the  sale  of  all  firearms 
without  a  special  permit  from  his  office.  This  was  stri 
king  at  the  root  of  all  the  dangers  that  immediately 
threatened  the  loyal  of  the  city  and  county,  and  we 
retired  that  night  with  a  deeper  sense  of  security  than 
we  had  felt  for  several  months. 

On  the  following  day,  he  suppressed  The  War  Bulletin 
and  The  Missourian,  papers  that,  to  the  detriment  of  the 
loyal,  had  maliciously  and  shamefully  misrepresented 
the  movements  of  the  Federal  troops  in  the  State.  But 
under  a  government  like  ours,  where  all  enjoy  such 

iw.  R.  S.  i,  Vol.  in,  p.  460. 

'Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  II,  Doc.  183,  pp.  626-627;  also 
W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  442. 


tion  of  person, 


_/Z  IA  nnclrjl&taa/l  I  hut.  the  uiLLhlti  ruuneiL  and 
Aitls ncf.it/ at,  (LccMJtt*  //t/.s  ffiittA.  on  ///«  ir.o.al  of! hati- 
of  thai,  kc  i*  ami  will,  he  tv.r*  foijat.  Iv  ///./.'  'ninited 
-jidlc*  ;  and  /'/ '  lu'.tcaj'iff.  fau.nl  in  cit.ni.a  ngnm*/ 
the  Itlnwn,  of.  ttt  ainj^.tratj.  aiding  lii'.t '•  en.etnn-.Hf  lh<< 
fw.na.Liu,  ic ill  Le  (lic 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  215 

unbounded  freedom  of  speech,  such  acts,  whether  by 
the  direction  of  civil  or  military  authority,  are  usually 
offensive,  whatever  public  necessity  may  be  urged  as 
a  justification  of  them.  And  both  the  right  and  expedi 
ency  of  suppressing  even  these  virulent  secession  jour 
nals  were  doubted  by  very  many  of  the  Unionists. 
But,  at  a  later  day,  we  felt  that  we  could  approve,  if  not 
applaud,  much  of  what  the  provost  marshal  wrote  to 
the  editor  of  the  Christian  Advocate,  who  had  inquired 
if  the  rumors  were  true  that  the  marshal  intended  to 
suppress  his  paper.  The  suggestive  reply  was:  "  Permit 
me  to  say  that  in  my  judgment,  in  these  times  of  political 
excitement,  and  heated  discussion,  and  civil  war,  it 
would  be  more  becoming,  as  well  as  more  consistent, 
that  a  public  newspaper,  belonging  to,  and  advocating 
the  doctrines  and  principles  of  the  church  of  Christ, 
should  abstain  from  publishing  articles  of  a  political 
character,  calculated  to  inflame  the  passions  of  men, 
and  evidently  hostile  to  the  government  of  the  country. 
Let  your  journal  be  a  religious  paper,  as  it  professes 
to  be,  and  it  will  never  come  under  the  discipline  of  this 
department." 

After  the  suppression  of  these  papers,  rigorous  meas 
ures  multiplied.  The  provost  marshal,  by  a  general 
order,  forbade  any  one  to  pass  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
city  and  county  of  St.  Louis  without  a  special  permit 
from  his  office.  That  those  born  since  the  war  may  know 
under  what  stringent  regulations  all  of  us  lived  for  many 
months,  see  the  facsimile  of  both  sides  of  a  pass  issued 
to  myself,  in  October  of  1861. 

These  requirements  made  and  strictly  enforced  by 
martial  law  greatly  annoyed  many,  even  among  the 
loyal  of  the  city  and  county,  especially  elderly  men  and 
women,  who  had  spent  most  of  their  lives  in  unrestrained 


216        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

liberty  of  movement.  To  be  compelled  to  solicit  in 
person  a  permit  from  the  provost  marshal  to  leave  or 
enter  the  city  seemed  to  them  an  arrogant  and  galling 
invasion  of  their  freedom.  And  while  they  bowed  to 
this  inexorable  demand  so  necessary  to  guard  the  fealty 
of  their  city  and  State  to  the  Union,  it  was  a  yoke  to 
which  they  unwillingly  submitted,  and  under  which 
they  chafed. 

I  well  remember  meeting  at  that  time  a  large,  venerable 
man,  who  by  a  multitude  of  people  was  affectionately 
called  Father  Welsh.  He  was  a  pioneer  Baptist  minister. 
He  had  long  lived  in  St.  Louis  County,  and  had  preached 
not  only  in  churches,  schoolhouses,  and  private  resi 
dences,  but  in  summer  in  groves  under  the  canopy  of 
leafy  boughs.  He  was  not  only  generally  respected, 
but  sincerely  loved  by  very  many  who  had  been  blessed 
through  his  faithful,  sympathetic  ministrations.  He  was 
loyal  to  his  country.  His  patriotism  was  unqualified 
and  ardent,  but  to  him  martial  law  was  abhorrent. 
He  complained  bitterly  that  one  as  old  and  well-known 
as  he  was  should  be  compelled  to  solicit  a  pass  from 
a  United  States  officer,  in  order  that,  unmolested  by 
military  sentinels,  he  might  enter  and  leave  the  city 
and  county  where  he  had  so  long  proclaimed  the 
gospel.  And  he  evidently  represented  many  of  un 
sullied  patriotism,  who  deeply  felt  the  infringement 
of  their  accustomed  liberties.  But  in  a  border  city,  we 
were  all  compelled  to  learn  by  experience  the  difference 
between  a  state  of  war  and  a  state  of  peace. 

But  if  martial  law  \vas  so  distasteful  even  to  some 
of  the  truly  loyal,  what  was  it  to  the  men  and  women 
among  us,  who  were  aiding  and  abetting  those  in  rebel 
lion  against  the  Federal  government?  They  could  not 
take  the  stringent  oath  printed  on  the  pass,  without 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  217 

which  it  could  not  be  granted  to  them.  If  they  should 
undertake  to  get  out  of  the  city  or  county  without 
a  pass,  in  all  probability  they  would  be  challenged  and 
arrested  by  the  military  sentinels,  and,  unable  to  take 
any  oath  of  allegiance,  would  be  duly  landed  in  durance 
vile.  Rather  than  run  such  risks,  most  of  them,  mutter 
ing  their  indignant  protests,  sat  down  in  their  homes 
and  sulkily  waited  for  deliverance.  But  the  kind  of 
deliverance  that  they  ardently  longed  for  happily  never 
came. 

On  the  same  day  that  the  provost  marshal  issued  his 
order  in  reference  to  passes,  General  Fremont  put  the 
whole  State  under  martial  law,  and,  as  many  con 
tended,  unwarrantably  assuming  the  functions  of  the 
general  government,  proclaimed  the  freedom  of  all 
slaves  belonging  to  those  guilty  of  disloyalty  to  the 
United  States.1  He  made  good  his  extraordinary  proc 
lamation  by  explicit  act.  On  September  12th,  notwith 
standing  the  President  had  written  him  on  the  2d,  ta 
king  exception  to  this  manifesto,  he  manumitted  two 
slaves,  belonging  to  Thomas  L.  Snead  of  St.  Louis, 
and  issued  their  manumission  papers  over  his  signature 
as  major-general.2  Lincoln  kindly  called  his  attention 
to  the  fact  that  he  was  transcending  his  authority, 
and  gave  him  the  opportunity  to  modify  his  own  policy, 
without  any  open  declaration  of  dissent  on  the  part  of 
the  general  government.  But  in  reply,  Fremont  pre 
ferred  that  the  President  himself  should  modify  the 
obnoxious  proclamation;3  so,  reluctantly  but  firmly, 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  10,  Doc.  18,  p.  30. 
W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  466-469. 

2  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  26,  Doc,  43,  p. 
126. 
Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  Ill,  Doc.,  p.  129. 

«  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  477. 


218        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Mr.  Lincoln  publicly  set  aside  so  much  of  the  general's 
proclamation  of  August  30th  as  pertained  to  the  manu 
mission  of  slaves  belonging  to  rebels.1 

The  question  on  which  the  President  and  his  general 
clashed  was  confessedly  delicate  and  manifestly  per 
plexing  to  those  in  administrative  circles.  At  bottom, 
the  duty  of  the  President  was  clear.  Since  slavery  was 
a  local  institution  he  could  not  legally  interfere  with  it 
in  any  loyal  State;  and,  as  a  State,  Missouri  had  declared 
against  secession.  Just  what,  however,  might  be 
rightly  done,  according  to  the  laws  of  war,  with  the 
slaves  of  the  disloyal  in  loyal  States  was  as  yet  appar 
ently  not  altogether  clear  to  those  in  authority  at 
Washington.  Still,  on  grounds  of  expediency,  con 
servative  action  was  manifestly  wisest,  in  order  not 
unnecessarily  to  alienate  the  loyal  pro-slavery  element 
of  the  border  States.  The  problem  in  all  its  bearings 
greatly  agitated  the  Unionists  of  our  city.  Upon  it  they 
were  divided  in  both  judgment  and  sentiment.  Some 
said:  "The  enslavement  of  the  negro  is  the  real  cause 
of  the  war.  By  law  he  is  declared  to  be  property;  and 
if,  as  has  been  done  before  our  eyes,  a  general  may 
confiscate  buildings  belonging  to  the  disloyal,  and 
appropriate  them  to  the  use  of  the  United  States, 
why  can  he  not  treat  the  slave  property  of  rebels  in 
the  same  way?"  "But,"  their  opponents  replied, 
"  this  is  what  Fremont  did  not  do  with  the  slaves  of 
Mr.  Snead;  he  did  not  turn  them  over  to  the  United 
States  to  be  used  in  promoting  the  interests  of  the  Federal 
government;  he  simply  set  them  free.  He  is  putting 
himself  forward  as  an  emancipator."  So  the  ideas 
of  staunch  Unionists  were  in  conflict.  Evidently  the 
most  intelligent  and  thoughtful  unhesitatingly  sus- 

1  P.  485. 


THE    AUTHOR,     GAU  SHA     ANDERSON.     IN     18C1,    WHEN    THE 
PASS    WAS    (.RANTED    HIM. 

[PageZlB 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  219 

tained  the  President  in  his  modification  of  the  general's 
manifesto.  And  without  expressing  here  any  opinion 
as  to  whether  or  not  their  judgment  of  Fremont  was 
just,  it  is  true  that  many  of  them  began  to  feel  that  in 
attempting  to  do  what  in  itself  as  a  matter  of  merely 
abstract  justice  was  right,  he  was  quite  too  impulsive, 
effusive,  and  spectacular,  and  that  he  had  clearly  ex 
ceeded  his  authority.  In  fact  he  was  attempting  to  do 
what  the  general  government  felt  itself  debarred  from 
doing  by  constitutional  law  and  by  a  late  specific  act 
of  Congress. 

But  Fremont's  career,  as  commander  of  the  Western 
Department,  now  drew  rapidly  to  its  close.  He  had 
gathered  an  army  of  twenty-five  thousand  men;  but 
when  the  brave  Mulligan  at  Lexington,  on  the  Missouri 
River,  in  the  western  part  of  the  State,  was  besieged 
by  a  rebel  force  more  than  four  times  greater  than  his 
own,  and  yet  fought  on  pluckily  for  days,  Fremont 
failed  to  re-enforce  him.  To  be  sure,  he  made  what 
seemed  to  us  a  rather  belated  and  languid  effort  so  to  do, 
but  the  troops  ordered  by  him  to  Lexington  failed 
to  reach  their  destination  before  Mulligan  was  com 
pelled  to  surrender.1  This  was  a  blow  so  disastrous 
to  the  Union  cause,  that  the  loyal  of  our  city  were 
filled  with  disappointment  and  discontent.  Some  of 
them  murmured  their  disapprobation  of  the  com 
manding  general,  some  openly  and  bitterly  denounced 
him.  The  Evening  News,  a  Union  journal,  in  a  strong, 
manly  editorial,  entitled  "  The  Fall  of  Lexington," 
sharply  criticized  his  failure  to  re-enforce  Mulligan,  and 
for  this  criticism,  the  proprietor,  Charles  G.  Ramsay, 
was  arrested  by  order  of  the  provost  marshal,  taken 
to  headquarters  and  there  examined  by  the  military 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  32,  Doc.  33,  p.  70. 


220        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

authorities.  He  was  sent  to  prison,  and  his  paper  was 
suppressed.  All  the  manuscript  in  his  office  was  seized 
and  the  building,  where  his  paper  was  published,  was 
put  into  the  possession  of  a  provost-guard.1  With  very 
few  dissenting  voices,  this  invasion  of  the  freedom  of 
the  press  was  sharply  condemned  by  Union  men.  The 
occurrence  added  largely  to  the  distrust  of  the  capacity 
of  the  general  for  a  command  so  large  and  difficult. 

The  surrender  of  Mulligan's  small  heroic  army  at 
Lexington  stimulated  Fremont  to  more  strenuous 
effort.  He  now  contemplated  marching  against  the 
enemy  that  was  so  rapidly  gaining  strength  in  west  and 
southwest  Missouri.  But  in  that  event  St.  Louis  would 
be  left  quite  uncovered;  so  to  provide  for  the  defence 
of  the  city  in  the  absence  of  his  army,  he  proceeded  to 
surround  it  on  the  north,  west  and  south  with  earth 
works,  in  which  he  placed  great  guns.  These  works  he 
intended  to  man  with  a  few  hundred  soldiers,  who,  if  any 
enemy  should  approach,  could  with  those  big  guns 
sweep  with  grape  and  canister  all  the  roads  that  led  to 
the  city.  Many  of  us,  little  acquainted  with  military 
affairs,  looked  on  with  curiosity  mingled  with  wonder, 
grateful  for  the  benign  care  bestowed  upon  us  by  our 
patriotic  commander;  but  I  noticed  that  those  who 
evidently  knew  more  of  war  viewed  these  earthworks 
with  ill-concealed  contempt.  And  during  many  months 
they  remained  unmanned,  mute  reminders  of  the  wisdom 
or  folly  of  the  celebrated  Fremont,  under  v,  hose  imme 
diate  direction  they  had  been  constructed. 

He  seemed  to  have  a  mania  for  fortifications.  He 
put  Jefferson  City,  the  capital  of  the  State,  under  the 
command  of  Brigadier-General  Ulysses  S.  Grant,  then 

1  Moore's  Rebellion  Record,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  34,  Doc.  68,  p. 
146. 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  221 

unknown  to  fame,  and  especially  enjoined  him  to  fortify 
it.  To  this  order  Grant  replied  that  he  had  neither 
sufficient  men  nor  tools  to  fortify  the  place,  and  added : 
"  Drill  and  discipline  are  more  important  than  fortifica 
tions."  That  pithy,  pregnant  sentence  foreshadowed 
the  hero  of  Fort  Donelson,  Vicksburg  and  Appornattox. 

At  last,  during  the  closing  days  of  September,  Fremont 
and  his  army,  attended,  as  it  seemed  to  us,  with  inex 
tricable  confusion  and  indescribable  clatter,  left  St. 
Louis  for  Jefferson  City.  No  armed  host  ever  went  forth 
to  battle  made  up  of  nobler  men.  The  best  blood  of  the 
West  ran  in  their  veins.  They  were  unusually  intelli 
gent  and  patriotic.  Price,  apparently  always  unwilling 
to  risk  a  doubtful  conflict,  abandoning  his  project  of 
destroying  the  railroads  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
State,  with  an  army  of  about  twenty  thousand  men, 
retreated  in  orderly  fashion  towards  southwest  Missouri. 
The  loyal  of  our  city  now  took  new  heart  and  hope. 
Our  general,  unopposed,  moved  on  towards  Springfield. 
On  the  25th  of  October,  Zagonyi,  with  a  hundred  and 
fifty  of  Fremont's  body-guard,  made  a  brilliant  dash 
into  that  city,  dispersing  the  rebel  soldiers  stationed 
there  to  defend  it.  Over  this  we  were  exultant.  The 
first  brush  with  the  enemy  had  resulted  in  decisive 
victory  and  had  added  glory  to  our  arms.  The  people 
of  Springfield,  with  tumultuous  joy,  ran  up  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  in  every  part  of  their  city.  Fremont's 
army  was  now  rapidly  concentrated  there.  The  enemy 
was  steadily  falling  back  toward  northwestern  Arkansas. 
Victory  for  our  whole  army  seemed  hovering  near, 
ready  to  perch  on  our  banners.  Even  if  our  general  had 
made  mistakes,  he  was  about  to  atone  for  them  all  by 
utterly  defeating  the  enemy;  so  loyal  St.  Louis  felt. 

But    while    this    apparently    auspicious    campaign 


222        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

was  being  prosecuted,  not  a  few  leading  men,  headed 
by  Colonel  Frank  P.  Blair,  were  urging  the  authorities  at 
Washington  to  remove  Fremont  from  his  command. 
Mr.  Blair  was  evidently  bent  on  securing  this  end.  He 
preferred  formal  charges  against  the  general,1  in  which 
he  accused  him  of  conduct  unbecoming  an  officer  and 
a  gentleman,  extravagance  and  waste  of  the  public 
moneys,  despotic  and  tyrannical  conduct,  and  disobedi 
ence  of  orders.  These  charges  he  sustained  by  many 
specifications.  While  Mr.  Blair's  onslaught  seemed 
not  wholly  destitute  of  heat  and  partisanship,  it  con 
tained  so  much  of  truth  that  the  authorities  at  Wash 
ington  felt  that  they  could  not  ignore  it.  It  also  greatly 
disturbed  the  loyal  of  our  city  and  divided  them 
into  opposing  parties,  some  for,  some  against,  the 
general. 

The  situation  was  so  grave  that  the  Secretary  of  War 
himself  came  to  make  an  investigation.  He  evidently 
found  much  that  he  did  not  approve.  He  went  out  into 
the  State  to  Tipton  and  had  an  interview  with  Fre 
mont,  who  was  then  on  the  march;  and  when,  on 
October  14th,  he  was  about  to  return  from  St.  Louis 
to  Washington,  he  instructed  Fremont  to  correct  certain 
irregularities  in  his  disbursement  of  military  funds, 
to  discontinue  the  erection  of  earthworks  around  our  city, 
as  wholly  unnecessary,  and  of  barracks  near  his  own 
headquarters.2  He  also  declared  that  no  payments 
would  be  made  to  officers,  other  than  those  of  the  volun 
teer  forces,  who  had  been  commissioned  by  Fremont 
without  the  President's  approval.  Such  deliverances 
from  the  head  of  the  War  Department  betokened 
reprehensible,  even  if  it  were  thoughtless,  insubordina- 

1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  43. 

2  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  632-533. 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  223 

tion,  and  contained  a  pretty  clear  hint  of  incompetence. 1 
In  fact  the  evidence  of  his  incompetence  was  startling 
and  cumulative.  When  at  Jefferson  City,  he  ordered 
his  army  to  march  without  sufficient  means  of  transporta 
tion.  He  did  the  same  at  Tipton.  His  ammunition  was 
wet;  the  Belgian  rifles  that  he  bought  in  Europe  were 
nearly  useless.  In  the  preceding  September,  Grant 
at  Cairo,  Illinois,  learning  that  the  rebels  at  Columbus, 
Kentucky,  had  planned  to  seize  Paducah  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Tennessee,  saw  that  he  must  move 
without  delay  if  he  would  thwart  their  purpose. 
He  at  once  telegraphed  Fremont  that  he  was  ta 
king  steps  to  anticipate  the  enemy  in  the  occupation 
of  that  place.  He  received  no  reply  that  day,  September 
5th.  So  he  telegraphed  that  he  should  start  for  Paducah 
that  night  unless  he  received  further  orders.  Getting 
no  response,  he  occupied  Paducah  at  daylight  the  next 
morning,  anticipating  the  enemy  by  six  or  eight  hours. 
After  he  had  garrisoned  the  town,  placed  General  Smith 
in  command  and  returned  to  Cairo,  he  found  a  despatch 
from  Fremont  authorizing  him  to  take  Paducah  if  he 
"  felt  strong  enough."  2 

It  soon  leaked  out  that  Fremont  had  appointed  general 
and  staff  officers  without  the  authority  of  the  general 
government;  that  those  constituting  his  body-guard 
had  been  commissioned  primarily  to  serve  him  person 
ally  rather  than  the  United  States ; 3  and  that  often 
ignoring  his  adjutant-general,  he  had  sent  in  bills  payable, 
approved  simply  by  himself.4  At  a  later  day,  a  com 
mittee  appointed  by  the  House  of  Representatives, 

*W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  644-47. 

2  Personal  Memoirs  of  U.  S.  Grant,  Vol.  I,  pp.  265-267. 

3  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  VIII,  p.  434. 

W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  612,  532,  540-649,  668. 

4  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  549,  668-9. 


224       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

after  thoroughly  investigating  these  alleged  misde 
meanors,  in  the  main  confirmed  the  conclusions  reached 
by  the  Secretary  of  War. 

When  the  Secretary  arrived  at  Washington  and  made 
his  report,  the  removal  of  Fremont  from  his  command 
soon  followed.  He  was  apprised  of  it  on  November  2d,1 
and  immediately  took  leave  of  his  army.  To  most  of 
us,  this  seemed  at  the  moment  a  calamity.  Not  that 
we  could  justly  find  fault  with  the  decision  reached 
by  the  government,  but  we  keenly  felt  that  the  time  for 
promulgating  this  decision  was  most  inopportune. 
The  general  was  apparently  on  the  eve  of  a  great  battle ; 
his  army  glowed  with  enthusiasm;  the  prospect  of 
complete  victory  was  unusually  bright;  he  had  in  fact, 
with  the  smallest  modicum  of  fighting,  nearly  driven 
the  rebel  army  from  our  State.  The  strong,  instinctive 
feeling  of  the  great  body  of  loyal  men  and  women  of 
our  city  was  that  he  ought  to  have  had  the  chance  to 
finish  the  campaign  so  auspiciously  begun.  But  the 
authorities  at  Washington  had,  with  apparently  abun 
dant  justification,  decreed  otherwise.  There  was  only  one 
thing  to  be  done ;  that  was  to  submit  without  murmuring. 

By  the  removal  of  Fremont  his  patriotic  army  was 
greatly  disheartened.  Some  of  them,  in  the  first  flush 
of  disappointment,  declared  that  they  would  not  serve 
under  another  leader;  that  when  he  left  they  would 
throw  down  their  arms  and  return  to  their  homes. 
BuLin  his  farewell  address  to  his  troops,  Fremont 
rose  above  all  personal  resentment,  and  in  a  tender 
patriotic  appeal  exhorted  them  to  be  as  faithful  to  his 
successor  as  they  had  been  to  him.2  Their  sober  second 

1  The  order  for  his  removal  is  dated  at  Washington,  October  24, 
1861. 

2  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  65,  Doc.  126,  p.  270. 
W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  Ill,  pp.  659-560. 


Fremont  and  Fiasco  225 

thought  responded  to  his  manly,  unselfish  words,  and, 
in  spite  of  their  personal  attachment  to  him,  sinking  all 
individual  preferences,  they  determined  unswervingly 
to  fight  on  for  the  Union  under  any  general  that  might  be 
placed  over  them.  So,  as  we  generally  anticipated,  the 
highest  motive  prevailed. 

Fremont  returned  to  St.  Louis.  The  loyal  Germans, 
to  whom  we  and  the  whole  country  owed  so  much, 
received  him  with  unshaken  confidence,  and  with  the 
warmest  expressions  of  affection.  At  the  time  they  were 
firmly  convinced  that  those  who  had  so  strenuously 
urged  his  removal  had  treated  him  with  marked  injus 
tice.  These  tokens  of  personal  loyalty  and  confidence 
touched  his  heart.  In  response  to  the  assurances  of  his 
steadfast  friends,  he  complained  of  the  unjust  charges 
that,  in  his  absence,  had  been  "rained  on  his  defenceless 
head  —  defenceless  because  his  face  was  turned  to  the 
public  enemy.7'  But,  though  smarting  under  what  he 
deemed  grievous  personal  wrong,  there  was  no  note  of 
recreancy  to  his  country. 

Whatever  were  his  faults,  whatever  were  his  mistakes, 
-  and  they  seemed  to  be  many,  —  he  was  a  patriot,  and 
laid  down  the  duties  of  his  department  with  honor. 
And  I  am  sure  that  all  true  Unionists  of  St.  Louis,  even 
those  who  did  not  join  their  German  fellow  citizens 
either  in  their  expressions  of  confidence  in  the  retiring 
commander,  or  in  their  criticisms  of  those  who  thought 
the  highest  good  of  the  Republic  demanded  his  retire 
ment,  were  nevertheless  glad  that  these  spontaneous  and 
hearty  demonstrations  of  the  loyal  Germans  came  to 
cheer  the  heart  of  Fremont  in  what  evidently  was  to  him 
a  dark  and  bitter  day. 

His  command  was  turned  over  to  General  Hunter,  the 
oldest  officer  in  his  army.  But  Hunter,  perhaps  con- 


226        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

sidering  himself  only  a  temporary  bridge  to  Fremont's 
real  successor,  refused  to  continue  the  campaign,  which 
had  been  so  suddenly  arrested  by  the  removal  of  his 
chief.  In  a  leisurely  and  orderly  manner  he  soon  began 
a  retrograde  movement,  for  which  the  onlooking  loyalists 
of  our  city  could  discover  no  reason.  No  foe  imme 
diately  confronted  him,  and  if  the  rebels  of  that  region 
with  all  their  forces  had  borne  down  upon  him,  he 
could  have  easily  defeated  them.  But  from  no  cause 
patent  to  us,  that  splendid  army,  under  his  command, 
was  retracing  its  steps.  We  viewed  the  inglorious  spec 
tacle  with  profound  disgust. 

Price  and  his  army  advanced  as  ours  retreated.  Be 
fore  him,  dreading  his  approach,  fled  a  great  company 
of  well-to-do  Unionists,  poor  whites  and  negroes.  They 
were  the  heralds  of  his  march,  and  the  motley  trail  of 
our  retreating  troops.  In  a  few  days  the  great  army 
was  once  more  encamped  at  our  gates,  and  the  dis 
heartened,  footsore,  hungry  crowd  that  had  followed  in 
its  wake  thronged  our  streets  and  taxed  to  the  utter 
most  our  charities.  Thus  ended  a  campaign  of  brilliant 
promise.  To  the  sorely  tried  loyalists  of  our  city  it 
seemed  to  be  such  a  fiasco  that  by  it  they  were  reminded 
of  the  oft  quoted  words: 

"  The  King  of  France  went  up  the  hill 
With  twenty  thousand  men  ; 
The  King  of  France  came  down  the  hill, 
And  ne'er  went  up  again." l 

1  Pigges  Corantoe,  or  Newes  from  the  North,  p.  3. 


CHAPTER   XV 

EXTRAORDINARY   ACTS 

WE  should  first  of  all  carefully  note  the  fact  that 
although  General  Lyon  in  desperate  battle  laid  down 
his  life,  he  had  accomplished  his  purpose.  He  had 
sustained  by  arms  the  decision  of  the  Convention  in 
March  against  secession,  and,  in  spite  of  all  who  were 
disloyally  striving  to  reverse  that  decision,  had  held 
Missouri  true  in  her  allegiance  to  the  Union.  By  his 
military  movements  he  had  put  to  flight  the  secession 
Governor,  Lieutenant-Go vernor  and  legislature,  so  that 
the  State  had  now  no  governing  body  except  her  sov 
ereign  Convention.  That  had  adjourned  in  March  to 
meet  in  December,  unless,  on  account  of  some  exigency, 
it  should  be  called  together  earlier.  That  exigency  was 
at  hand.  If  the  processes  of  civil  government  were  not 
to  be  wholly  abandoned,  there  must  be  some  duly 
appointed  officers  of  the  State,  through  whom  its  author 
ity  might  find  legitimate  expression.  So  while  Lyon  and 
his  devoted  soldiers  kept  the  disloyal  at  bay  in  the 
southwestern  part  of  the  State,  the  committee  which 
had  been  previously  appointed  by  the  Convention  for 
that  purpose,  on  the  6th  of  July,  summoned  the  members 
of  that  sovereign  body  to  meet  at  the  capital  of  the 
State,  on  the  26th  of  that  month. 

In  response  to  this  call,  it  met  at  the  appointed  time 
and  place.  On  the  30th  of  July,  it  declared  vacant  the 


228       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

offices  of  Governor,  Lieutenant-Governor  and  Secretary 
of  State;  also  the  seats  of  the  members  of  the  General 
Assembly.  Moreover,  it  provided  for  the  reorganization 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  giving  to  the  Governor,  whom 
they  should  choose,  authority  to  appoint  four  new 
justices  in  addition  to  the  three  which  then  comprised 
the  court.1  The  Convention  also  repealed  the  radical 
and  mischievous  war  measures  enacted  in  May  in  secret 
session,  by  the  now  scattered  and  defunct  legislature. 
On  the  31st,  it  chose  as  provisional  State  officers,  Judge 
Hamilton  R.  Gamble,  Governor;  Willard  P.  Hall, 
Lieutenant-Governor;  and  Mordecai  Oliver,  Secretary 
of  State.  These  provisional  officers  were  inaugurated 
on  the  next  day,  August  1st,  making  short,  sensible, 
patriotic  addresses,  in  which  they  showed  their  keen 
appreciation  of  the  difficulties  that  attended  them  in 
the  anomalous  position  into  which  they  had  been  thrust 
against  their  will.2 

But  radical  as  these  acts  of  the  Convention  were, 
it  did  not  forget  the  sacred  rights  of  the  people.  It 
decreed  that  its  measures  should  be  submitted  to  them 
for  ratification  or  rejection,  and  that  on  the  first  Monday 
in  November  they  should  elect  by  ballot  State  officers, 
although  on  account  of  the  stress  and  confusion  of  war, 
the  date  was  subsequently  changed  to  November, 
1862.  It  also  in  a  carefully  prepared  paper  explained 
to  the  people  of  the  State  the  imperative  necessity  that 
called  them  together,  and  that  justified  their  revolution 
ary  action. 

On  August  3d,  the  new  provisional  Governor  by 
proclamation  set  forth  the  lawless,  turbulent  condition 

1  The  Missouri  Republican,  July  31st,  1861.     Moore's  Rebellion 
Record,  Vol.  II,  D.  of  E.,  p.  40. 

2  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  II,  D.  of  E.,  p.  51,  Doc.  161,  p.  458. 


Extraordinary  Acts  229 

of  the  State,  and  appealed  to  all  within  the  common 
wealth  to  put  forth  their  utmost  endeavor  to  secure, 
as  speedily  as  possible,  a  reign  of  law  and  order,  and 
commanded  all  State  troops  called  out  by  his  predecessor, 
Governor  Jackson,  to  lay  down  their  arms  and  return 
to  their  homes,  promising  them  protection.1  But  a 
few  days  later 2  he  found  it  necessary,  in  order  to  sup 
press  marauding  and  violence,  to  call  for  forty-two 
thousand  volunteers,  infantry  and  cavalry.  The  Gov 
ernor,  while  conservative  in  character,  and  an  ardent 
lover  of  peace,  was  forced  for  the  public  good  to  put 
down  anarchy  by  the  strong  hand  of  the  armed  militia 
of  the  State. 

But  there  was  another  series  of  interesting  events 
running  parallel  with  the  foregoing.  During  the  month 
of  July,  our  fleeing  Governor  and  Lieutenant-Governor 
were  among  their  political  friends  in  the  Southern  Con 
federacy.  They  visited  Richmond  and  took  counsel 
with  Jefferson  Davis.  The  Lieutenant-Governor  hav 
ing  returned  to  New  Madrid,  on  the  31st  of  July, 
while  the  Convention  in  session  at  Jefferson  City  was 
choosing  provisional  State  officers,  issued  a  procla 
mation  as  "  acting  Governor  of  Missouri,  in  the  tem 
porary  absence  of  Governor  Jackson/'  eulogizing  the 
President  of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  welcoming  to 
the  State  the  Confederate  General  Pillow  with  his  rebel 
army,  declaring  that  in  view  of  the  rebellion  in  St. 
Louis  against  Missouri,  and  the  war  of  the  United  States 
upon  her,  "she  is,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  a  sovereign, 
free,  and  independent  State."  He  also  called  upon 
Brigadier-General  Thompson,  commanding  the  Missouri 
State  Guards  of  the  district  that  included  New  Madrid, 

1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  II,  D.  of  E.,  p.  63,  Doc.  156,  p.  472. 

2  August  24th,  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  Doc.,  p.  5. 


230       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

to  join  hands  with  General  Pillow  in  his  beneficent  work 
of  protecting  "the  lives  and  property  of  the  citizens." 
That  he  referred  only  to  citizens  in  full  sympathy  with 
secession  was  made  clear  by  Thompson's  proclamation 
on  the  following  day.  This  proclamation,  which,  in 
bombast,  stands  without  a  peer  among  all  written  mani 
festoes  of  military  commanders,  was  issued  on  the  same 
day  of  the  inauguration  at  the  State  capital  of  the  pro 
visional  Governor  and  Lieutenant-Governor,  and  of 
Fremont's  river  campaign  to  Cairo  and  New  Madrid. 
Thus  strange  and  stirring  events  overlapped  each  other. 
Antagonistic  proclamations  from  men  of  diametrically 
opposite  views  met  and  clashed.  To  those  uncertain  of 
their  ground  the  din  was  bewildering.  But  amid  the 
confusion  of  these  discordant  appeals,  Thompson's 
turgid  screed  greatly  amused  all  in  whom  there  was 
even  the  smallest  grain  of  humor.  I  remember  how 
companies  of  men  in  our  city,  irrespective  of  their 
political  sympathies,  casually  thrown  together,  read  it 
to  each  other  amid  peals  of  laughter.  A  single  extract 
from  it  cannot  fail  to  amuse  those  of  this  generation 
and  justify  our  comment  upon  it. 

"  Come  now,  strike  while  the  iron  is  hot!  Our  enemies 
are  whipped  in  Virginia.  They  have  been  whipped  in 
Missouri.  General  Hardee  advances  in  the  centre, 
General  Pillow  on  the  right,  and  General  McCulloch 
on  the  left,  with  twenty  thousand  brave  Southern 
hearts  to  our  aid.  So  leave  your  plows  in  the  furrow, 
and  your  oxen  in  the  yoke,  and  rush  like  a  tornado 
upon  our  invaders  and  foes,  to  sweep  them  from  the 
face  of  the  earth,  or  force  them  from  the  soil  of  our 
State!  Brave  sons  of  the  Ninth  District,  come  and  join 
us!  We  have  plenty  of  ammunition  and  the  cattle  on 


Extraordinary  Acts  231 

ten  thousand  hills  are  ours.  We  have  forty  thousand 
Belgian  muskets  coming;  but  bring  your  guns  and 
muskets  with  you,  if  you  have  them;  if  not  come  with 
out  them.  We  will  strike  our  foes  like  a  Southern  thun 
derbolt,  and  soon  our  camp-fires  will  illuminate  the 
Meramec  and  Missouri.  Come,  turn  out! 1 

"  JEFF.  THOMPSON, 
"  Brigadier-General  Commanding." 

But  the  itinerant  Governor,  whose  office  had  been 
declared  vacant  by  our  sovereign  Convention  while 
he  was  engaged  in  earnest  consultation  with  the  rebel 
authorities  at  Richmond,  soon  after  returned,  and, 
on  August  5th,  inflicted  upon  a  distracted  common 
wealth  another  proclamation,  in  which  he  supplemented 
and  confirmed  that  issued  by  the  defunct  Lieutenant- 
Governor  on  the  31st  of  July.  He  declared  Missouri 
independent  of  the  government  of  the  United  States, 
and  that  all  relations  hitherto  existing  between  the  two 
governments  were  dissolved.2  He  did  this  of  course 
without  a  shred  of  authority.  He  was  no  longer  Governor; 
but  even  if  there  had  been  a  reasonable  doubt  that  the 
Convention  had  the  power  to  declare  his  office  vacant, 
as  Governor  he  had  no  constitutional  power  to  dissolve 
the  relations  existing  between  the  Federal  government 
and  the  State  over  which  he  was  called  to  preside; 
especially  since  the  sovereign  Convention,  which  he 
and  his  legislature  called  into  existence,  had  voted  down 
all  propositions  for  the  secession  of  Missouri;  and  even 
his  subservient  legislature,  whose  seats,  in  July,  had 
been  declared  vacant  by  the  same  Convention,  did  not 
adopt  an  ordinance  of  secession  until  November  2d, 

1  American  Cyclopaedia,  1861. 

2  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  II,  D.  of  E.,  p.  66,  Doc.  163,  p.  479. 


232       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

almost  three  months  after  the  peripatetic  Governor  had 
proclaimed  at  New  Madrid  that  the  secession  of  the 
State  was  an  accomplished  fact.  And  this  belated  ordi 
nance  of  secession  was  passed  at  Neosho,  a  small  mining 
town  in  the  extreme  southwestern  part  of  the  State, 
near  the  border  of  Arkansas,  where  the  defunct  legis 
lature,  that  assumed  such  extraordinary  powers,  found 
itself  without  a  quorum,  and  secured  one  only  by 
arbitrarily  padding  out  its  number  by  proxies.  So  in 
August,  Missouri  was  declared  by  an  officeless  Governor 
to  be  out  of  the  Union;  then  as  late  as  November  an 
unseated  legislature,  without  a  quorum,  voted  the 
secession  of  the  State  from  the  Union.  What  was 
already  out,  according  to  the  defunct  Governor,  was 
solemnly  voted  out  by  his  defunct  legislature.  The 
secession  State  government  manifestly  died  hard.  Even 
its  expiring  spasms  were  comical.  Its  proclamations 
and  legislative  acts  were  wild  and  futile.  Rather  than 
to  have  committed  such  folly  it  would  have  been  better 
"  to  be  a  dog,  and  bay  the  moon."  And  all  the  loyal  of 
Missouri  looked  on  and  laughed. 

But  the  action  of  our  officeless  Governor  flowed  out 
of  his  agreement  with  the  Confederate  authorities  at 
Richmond.  Three  days  after  Jackson  declared  the 
sovereign  independence  of  Missouri,  the  Confederate 
Congress  authorized  Jefferson  Davis  to  raise  troops  in 
Missouri  for  the  Southern  army,  and  to  establish  re 
cruiting  stations  to  facilitate  this  work;  and  on  the 
19th  of  August  voted  to  admit  Missouri  into  the 
Southern  Confederacy,  when,  by  her  legally  constituted 
authority,  —  the  authority  being  the  overturned  State 
government,  —  she  shall  have  ratified  the  constitu 
tion  of  the  Confederate  States.1  This  act  of  the  Con- 

1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  II,  D.  of  E.,  p.  70. 


Extraordinary  Acts  233 

federate  Congress   was    duly    approved    by  President 
Davis.1 

This  hostile  legislation  at  Richmond  was  followed 
by  a  proclamation  of  General  Price  at  Springfield,  on 
the  21st,  declaring  all  Missouri  Home  Guards  enemies 
of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  and  that  they  would  be 
treated  as  such.  What  the  general  proclaimed  was  un 
questionably  true,  what  he  threatened  was  expected. 
However,  all  that  transpired  at  Richmond  we  did  not  at 
that  time  know  fully.  We  got  some  inkling  of  it;  just 
enough  to  stimulate  our  imaginations,  and  to  spur  us  to 
greater  vigilance  and  to  unremitting  effort  to  keep 
Missouri  true  to  the  general  government.  We  well 
knew  that  the  seceded  States  would  do  their  utmost 
to  secure  her  for  the  Confederacy;  that  St.  Louis  was 
the  key  of  the  situation;  that  it  was  the  objective  point 
of  every  movement  of  the  State  Guards,2  and  of  every 
invading  army  from  the  South,  and  that  our  position 
would  not  be  secure  until  the  battle  for  the  Union  had 
been  fought  to  a  finish.  Hence  all  military  movements 
within  our  borders,  all  armed  conflicts  great  and  small, 
all  secret  plottings  of  the  disloyal,  all  acts  of  the  Conven 
tion  or  of  the  defunct  legislature,  all  proclamations, 
hostile  or  friendly,  demanded  and  received  our  unre 
mitting,  earnest  attention.  By  midsummer  of  1861, 
all  loyal  citizens  of  St.  Louis  had  fully  made  up  their 
minds  that  adhesion  to  the  Union,  and  security  in  it, 
were  to  be  purchased  only  by  the  price  of  eternal  vig 
ilance. 

1  P.  74. 

2  The  State  Guards  were  armed  Secessionists,  the  Home  Guards 
armed  Unionists. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

HALLECK  AND   HIS   MANIFESTOES 

MAJOR  -  GENERAL  HALLECK,  Fremont's  successor, 
appeared  among  us  on  November  18th,  1861. l  He  was 
already  famous  as  the  author  of "  Elements  of  Military  Art 
and  Science."  He  was  forty-six  years  old,  in  the  prime 
of  life,  in  perfect  health,  and  full  of  vigor.  As  he  peered 
at  us  out  of  his  large  black  eyes  underneath  dark  heavy 
eyebrows,  and  a  high,  massive  forehead,  he  looked 
wondrous  wise.  His  soldierly  bearing,  without  ostenta 
tion,  gave  us  confidence  in  him  as  a  safe  and  able  leader; 
nor  did  he  as  an  administrator  disappoint  our  expecta 
tions. 

He  seemed  intuitively  and  clearly  to  grasp  the  situa 
tion.  He  took  right  hold  of  his  work  and  did  it  with  a 
will.  He  soon  brought  order  out  of  chaos.  To  lighten 
his  burden  and  to  secure  greater  thoroughness  in  ad 
ministration,  together  with  promptness  and  effectiveness 
in  military  movements,  Kansas  was  separated  from 
his  department  and  put  under  the  command  of  Major- 
General  Hunter. 

First  of  all,  without  neglecting  for  a  moment  the 

movements  of  the  army  of  Price  in  the  State,  he  began  to 

disentangle  the  military  snarl  in  and  about  St.  Louis. 

One  after  another,  the  different  divisions  of  Fremont's 

1  w.  R.  s.  l,  Vol.  vin,  p.  369. 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  235 

army  were  returning  from  their  bootless  campaign. 
There  was  great  confusion.  All  seemed  to  be  at  cross- 
purposes.  Each  subordinate  commander,  uncertain 
as  to  his  duty,  was  anxiously  awaiting  orders.  But 
General  Halleck,  amid  the  din  of  conflicting  interests 
from  various  quarters  demanding  his  immediate  atten 
tion,  never  for  a  moment  lost  h*3  head.  With  a  masterful 
hand  he  reduced  to  system  what,  at  first  blush,  seemed 
an  inextricable  mass  of  antagonistic  interests.  In  a 
comparatively  short  time  every  imperative  call  upon 
him  had  been  fully  met,  every  subordinate  officer  had 
found  his  place,  learned  his  duties  and  was  efficiently 
doing  them.  The  internal  affairs  of  his  department  were 
at  last  running  as  smoothly  as  the  most  critical  could 
reasonably  expect. 

As  soon  as  General  Halleck  had  put  things  to  rights 
in  his  military  household,  he  broke  up  the  different 
secret  rendezvous  in  St.  Louis,  where  the  secessionists 
met  to  plot  against  the  government,  where  they  stowed 
their  war  material,  and  clandestinely  drilled  that  they 
might  be  prepared  for  open  conflict,  which  they  still 
hoped  would  soon  be  precipitated.  He  did  this  impor 
tant  work  with  such  downright  thoroughness,  that  so 
far  as  could  be  seen  he  put  an  end  to  these  secret  rebel 
gatherings. 

He  also  determined  to  sustain  with  all  the  power  at  his 
command  the  enactments  of  the  sovereign  Convention, 
now  the  only  legislative  body  of  the  State.  During  the 
preceding  month  the  Convention  had  once  more  reas 
sembled  in  St.  Louis  and  enacted  weighty  laws  to  safe 
guard  loyal  Missouri.  Among  other  important  measures, 
it  prescribed  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United  States 
to  be  taken  by  all  municipal  and  State  officers  under 
pain  of  deposition. 


236        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

The  general  did  not  permit  this  requirement  to  go 
unheeded.  He  insisted  that  all  who  were  amenable  to 
this  law  should  obey  it.  So  from  time  to  time  peremp 
tory  orders  were  sent  out  from  his  headquarters,  com 
manding  all  who  had  been  remiss  in  subscribing  to  the 
oath  to  take  it  at  once  or  vacate  their  places.  He 
expressly  enjoined  the  mayor  of  St.  Louis  to  compel 
all  city  officers  to  take  the  prescribed  oath,  and  the 
provost-marshal  general  to  arrest  all  State  officers  who 
had  from  any  cause  failed  to  subscribe  to  it.1  As  late  as 
January  26th,  1862,  he  ordered  all  officers  of  the  St. 
Louis  Mercantile  Library  Association,  and  of  the  St. 
Louis  Chambers  of  Commerce  to  take  the  oath  before 
the  provost  marshal  within  ten  days,  or  quit  their 
posts.  On  February  4th,  he  issued  a  similar  order,  which 
was  a  drag-net,  in  which  he  tried  to  catch  every  disloyal 
official  in  Missouri,  of  whatever  grade.  He  decisively 
commanded  all  officials  of  the  University  of  Missouri, 
all  presidents  and  directors  of  railroads,  all  quarter 
masters,  clerks  and  agents  in  the  service  of  the  United 
States  to  subscribe  to  the  oath  or  immediately  to  resign 
their  offices.2  And  at  last  he  evidently  considered  even 
this  to  be  inadequate,  since,  a  month  later,  he  ordered 
all  licensed  attorneys,  counsellors-at-law  and  proctors, 
and  all  jurors  to  take  the  oath  or  at  once  cease  to  exer 
cise  their  public  functions;3  and  to  make  the  work 
complete  in  every  detail,  to  unearth  all  rebels  in  hiding, 
he  ordered  every  voter  in  Missouri  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  United  States  on  pain  of  disfranchise- 
ment.4  Thus  did  this  Union  general,  with  his  numerous 

1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  108.     Also  W.  R.  S.  1, 
Vol.  VIII,  p.  414. 

2  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  IV,  D.  of  E.,  p.  18,  DQC-,  p.  129. 

3  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  VIII,  pp.  586  -  587,  p.  832, 

4  Pp.  557,  648. 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  237 

drastic  orders,  endeavor  to  uncover  every  disloyal  man 
in  our  commonwealth.  Was  it  wise?  He  thought  it  was, 
else  he  would  not  have  done  it. 

But  we  have  not  enumerated  a  tithe  of  his  swarming 
manifestoes.  We  soon  concluded  that  his  distinguishing 
characteristic  was  orders.  Orders,  orders  came  in  volleys 
from  his  headquarters.  He  was  evidently  earnestly 
endeavoring  to  find  out  who,  in  his  military  department, 
were  for  the  Union  and  who  were  against  it.  His 
orders  were  trumpet-calls  to  every  man  to  take  his 
stand  openly  and  show  his  colors.  He  wished  to  ascer 
tain  who  were  the  enemies  of  the  Union  that  he  might 
justly  deal  with  them.  When,  therefore,  by  the  testimony 
of  reliable  witnesses,  and  by  his  own  daily  observation, 
he  had  gotten  a  clear  view  of  the  state  of  things  that 
confronted  him,  the  disloyal  began  to  feel  the  grip  of 
his  iron  hand.  He  ordered  the  arrest  of  occupants  of 
carriages  carrying  rebel  flags,  and  the  confiscation  of  the 
carriages.1  Rebel  flags  from  all  such  vehicles  dis 
appeared  as  by  magic.  Their  owners  of  course  had  not 
met  with  any  change  of  heart,  but  in  order  to  save 
their  personal  property  concluded  to  conduct  themselves 
with  outward  decency  and  civility  in  a  loyal  city. 

The  general  directed  another  manifesto  against  the 
fair  sex,  who,  having  the  courage  of  their  convictions, 
and  relying  on  the  courtesy  and  gallantry  universally 
shown  in  our  country  to  women,  had  vauntingly  carried 
the  Confederate  flag  on  their  persons,  and  at  times 
had  waved  it  to  their  rebel  friends,  who  were  confined 
in  the  Gratiot  Street  prison.  He  ordered  their  arrest. 
Some  of  them  were  apprehended  and  imprisoned.  One, 
who  had  been  a  prominent  worker  in  my  own  church  and 
congregation,  having  been  found  guilty  of  conveying 

1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  IV,  Doc.,  p.  52. 


238        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

important  information  to  the  enemy,  was  banished  from 
the  city  and  State.  Having  acted  the  part  of  a  spy,  her 
punishment  was  exceedingly  mild.  If  a  man  had 
committed  the  same  crime  he  would  have  been  shot  or 
hung.  In  fact  General  Halleck  had  already  ordered 
that  all  persons  found  within  the  Federal  lines,  giving  aid 
to  the  rebels,  be  treated  as  spies,  arrested  and  shot. 
But  previous  good  character  and  deference  to  sex  saved 
the  guilty  woman  from  a  fate  so  dire. 

Other  women  of  high  social  position,  whose  homes 
were  outside  the  city  in  the  State,  had  fled  from  the 
disorder  and  violence  of  their  neighborhoods  to  St.  Louis 
for  safety.  Generously  protected  -within  our  gates 
and  by  our  army,  some  of  them  hatched  and  executed 
schemes  to  aid  the  Southern  Confederacy,  to  overturn 
the  very  government  under  whose  sheltering  wings 
they  were  abiding  in  security.  While  the  disloyal  deeds 
of  many  of  them  remained  undiscovered,  and  they 
continued  during  the  whole  period  of  the  war  to  dwell 
unmolested  under  the  flag  that  they  hated  and  clandes 
tinely  plotted  to  destroy,  others,  betrayed  by  their 
over-bold  acts  of  disloyalty,  were  by  our  general  re 
morselessly  banished  from  our  city.  He  sent  them  back 
to  their  homes  in  the  State,  around  which  the  swirling 
tides  of  war  still  swept.  Some  prominent  loyal  men 
pleaded  for  them,  but  pleaded  in  vain.  The  general 
unflinchingly  did  his  duty  as  he  saw  it. 

Nor  did  the  disloyal  press  elude  his  eye,  or  escape  his 
retributive  hand.  By  his  direction  the  provost-marshal 
general  ordered  all  newspapers  throughout  the  State  to 
furnish  him  a  copy  of  each  issue.  The  penalty  for  any 
failure  to  obey  this  drastic  mandate  was  suppression 
or  confiscation. 

Moreover,  every  important  military  movement  within 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  239 

the  bounds  of  his  department  received  his  thoughtful 
critical  attention.  At  this  time,  General  Price  had 
returned  to  the  State  and  was  leading  his  army  north 
ward.  He  wished  to  destroy  the  Hannibal  and  St. 
Joseph  Railroad,  and  so  cut  off  communication  between 
that  part  of  the  State  and  St.  Louis.  He  also  desired 
to  secure  recruits  for  his  depleted  ranks  from  the  north 
ern  counties,  especially  notorious  for  their  disloyalty. 
Many  of  the  people  of  that  region  hailed  his  approach 
and  flocked  to  his  standard.  But  aside  from  those  who 
enlisted  in  his  army  there  were  various  companies  of 
secessionists,  that  enthusiastically  entered  into  the  work 
of  destroying  the  railroad.  At  several  different  points 
they  tore  up  the  tracks,  bent  the  rails,  burned  depots  and 
bridges,  and  demolished  telegraph-poles.  This  was  a 
serious  blow  to  us,  and  men  in  our  city  were  anxiously 
asking  to  what  this  would  lead.  But  General  Halleck 
was  equal  to  the  situation.  He  regarded  such  irrespon 
sible  bands  of  rebels,  engaged  in  the  wanton  destruction 
of  public  property,  as  mere  outlaws,  having  no  claim  to 
the  immunities  accorded  to  regularly  enlisted  soldiers. 
To  meet  the  exigency  he  ordered  that  these  lawless 
bridge-burners  be  forthwith  arrested  and  shot.  Scores 
of  them  were  apprehended;  the  ringleaders  were  court- 
martialed,  condemned  to  be  shot,  and  were  long  kept  in 
prison  awaiting  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  which 
was  afterwards  commuted  to  a  period  of  hard  labor. 

He  also  followed  up  the  first  manifesto  by  a  second, 
in  which  he  ordered  that,  where  railroad  property  had 
been  destroyed,  the  commanding  officer  nearest  to  the 
scene  of  devastation  should  impress  the  slaves  of  all 
secessionists  in  that  neighborhood,  and,  if  need  be, 
also  the  owners  of  them,  and  compel  them  to  do  all  the 
menial  work  required  in  repairing  the  damage  that  had 


240        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

been  done.  This  order  was  faithfully  carried  out,  and 
it  put  an  end  to  the  destruction  of  railroad  property 
in  that  part  of  the  State.  It  was  a  great  comfort  to  us 
in  St.  Louis  to  see  that  the  orders  of  our  general  were 
not  mere  fulminations,  but  the  immediate  precursors 
of  deeds;  that  they  hit  hard  the  things  aimed  at. 

But  while  he  put  a  stop  to  the  destruction  of  railroad 
property,  he  also  organized  an  effective  military  cam 
paign  before  which  the  ever  cautious  Price  retreated, 
with  his  re-enforced  army,  into  the  southwest  part  of  the 
State  and  finally  into  Arkansas. 

But  such  a  statement  of  the  grand  result  of  this  cam 
paign  gives  no  adequate  idea  of  the  general  condition 
of  the  State  at  that  time.  There  was  great  confusion 
throughout  all  our  borders.  Confederate  troops,  coming 
up  from  Arkansas,  invaded  at  different  points  our  sacred, 
sovereign  soil.  They  came  to  strengthen  the  hands  of 
the  disloyal.  Federal  soldiers,  in  detached  bands, 
were  endeavoring  to  defend  the  loyal.  There  was  a 
skirmish  here,  a  conflict  there.  State  Guards  and  Home 
Guards  were  in  frequent  collision.  Guerrillas,  riding 
swiftly,  suddenly  struck  unsuspecting  neighborhoods 
and  left  behind  them  dying  men  and  flaming  dwellings. 
Bushwhackers,  hiding  in  thickets  or  behind  stone  walls, 
coolly  shot  down  many  of  the  best  men  of  our  State. 
Small  towns  often  changed  hands,  one  week  controlled 
by  Confederates,  the  next  by  Federals.  Halleck,  as 
well  as  he  could,  kept  all  his  subordinate  officers,  in  these 
harried  and  disordered  districts,  under  his  eye.  His 
orders  addressed  to  them  flew  thick  and  fast. 

These  military  movements,  that  we  have  briefly 
noted,  were  of  vast  importance  to  us.  Our  destiny  hung 
upon  the  turn  that  they  took.  Hence  they  gave  us 
much  anxious  thought.  But  while  they  were  transpiring, 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  241 

we  were  stirred  up  by  startling  and  significant  events 
within  our  gates.  Foremost  among  the  suggestive  inci 
dents  that  agitated  our  city  was  the  hand  that  Halleck 
took  in  the  negro  question.  But  unlike  his  predecessor 
in  command,  he  kept,  in  what  he  did,  strictly  within  the 
limits  of  his  authority  as  a  military  officer. 

Sixteen  fugitive  slaves  had  been  thrown  into  the 
county  jail.  They  were  shut  up  there,  not  because  they 
had  committed  crime,  but  because  that  prison  was  a 
convenient  place  to  keep  securely  such  lively  property, 
-  property  that  did  some  thinking,  had  some  ardent 
desires  for  freedom,  and  was  blessed  with  legs.  In  the 
latter  part  of  December,  1861,  these  slaves  were  adver 
tised  for  sale,  under  State  laws.  The  general,  satisfied 
that  they  were  the  property  of  rebels,  ordered  the 
provost  marshal  to  take  them  from  jail,  turn  them 
over  to  the  chief  quartermaster,  who  was  instructed 
to  put  them  to  work  for  the  Federal  government.1  The 
general,  however,  declared  that  by  his  order  he  did  not 
contravene  any  civil  enactment,  by  which  they  might  be 
legally  turned  over  to  their  masters.  Nevertheless,  to 
their  great  joy,  his  move  on  their  behalf  made  them 
virtually  free.  They  became  the  servants  of  Uncle  Sam, 
a  kind  and  gracious  master  that  fully  recognized  their 
manhood.  This  unexpected  act  of  our  general  set  wag 
ging  the  tongues  of  both  secessionists  and  Unionists,  the 
former  sharply  condemning,  the  latter  warmly  applaud 
ing.  There  was  very  bitter  war,  waged  by  tongues  on  the 
streets,  in  the  marts  of  trade  and  in  the  parlor,  as  well 
as  with  Minie  balls,  solid  shot  and  shell  in  the  field. 

But  without  respect  to  its  chronological  position 
among  the  manifestoes  of  our  general,  we  have  reserved 
one  for  more  extended  comment.  It  was  called  forth 

1  Moore's  Keb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  121. 


242       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

by  events  intensely  interesting  and  profoundly  signifi 
cant.  We  noted  in  a  preceding  chapter,  that  when 
the  army  of  Fremont,  after  his  removal  from  its  com 
mand,  fell  back  from  Springfield  upon  St.  Louis,  there 
followed  in  its  train  a  motley  multitude  of  refugees 
that,  as  best  they  could,  found  shelter  and  care  within 
our  city.  But  their  number  became  so  great  that  their 
wants  could  not  be  adequately  met  by  private  charity. 
To  keep  them  from  starvation,  General  Halleck  supplied 
many  of  them  with  army  rations.  Still,  such  continued 
use  of  government  stores  was  of  doubtful  propriety. 
In  determining  his  duty  in  a  matter  so  grave,  he  could 
not  but  reflect  that  the  fruitful  cause  of  all  the  misery 
of  this  unhoused  and  hungry  throng  was  the  rebellion 
against  the  government  of  the  United  States,  and  that 
many  of  the  wealthiest  citizens  of  St.  Louis  were  clan 
destinely  doing  what  they  could  to  aid  this  revolt 
against  Federal  authority.  To  his  mind  they  were 
chiefly  responsible  for  the  inflocking  of  these  forlorn 
and  ragged  crowds.  He  therefore  decided  that  they 
must  be  compelled  to  do  their  part  in  relieving  the 
wretchedness  which  they  had  helped,  and  were  still 
helping  to  produce.  He  wished  in  carrying  out  his 
purpose  to  avoid  if  possible  all  injustice.  So  he  sought 
for  trustworthy  information  concerning  well-to-do  seces 
sion  households.  When  he  had  secured  it  and  felt  that 
the  way  was  clear  for  intelligent  action,  perhaps  falling 
back  for  precedent  on  the  searches  and  seizures  of  his 
predecessor,  he  issued  an  order  assessing  the  rich  seces 
sionists  of  the  city  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  support 
of  the  refugees  that  had  fled  for  safety  to  us  from  the 
south  and  west.1 

Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  103.    Also  W.  R.  S.  1, 
Vol.  VIII,  pp.  431,  490. 


Haileck  and  His  Manifestoes  243 

No  act  of  any  commander,  stationed  at  St.  Louis 
during  the  war,  created  more  excitement  than  this. 
At  first  both  the  loyal  and  disloyal  were  amazed.  Then 
vengeful  resentment  and  bitterness  took  possession  of 
the  assessed.  The  order  fell  chiefly  on  the  "  first  fami 
lies/7  the  bon  ton  of  Southern  society,  in  our  city;  and 
was  doubly  offensive  since  it  both  galled  their  pride 
and  struck  at  their  devotion  to  the  Southern  Confederacy. 
Nevertheless  they  hardly  ventured  to  protest  above 
their  breath,  lest  their  words  might  justify  the  general's 
order.  Most  of  them  having  the  saving  grace  of  common 
sense,  and  regarding  discretion  as  the  better  part  of 
valor,  with  compressed  and  dumb  lips  quietly  paid  their 
assessments.  If  any  hot  denunciation  clamored  for 
utterance,  it  was  temporarily  suppressed  and  kept  for 
secret  fulmination  under  their  own  rooftrees.  When, 
however,  any  one,  resenting  the  exaction,  refused  to 
pay  his  assessment,  a  sufficient  amount  of  his  property 
to  meet  this  extraordinary  military  tax  was  promptly 
confiscated,  and  a  penalty  of  twenty-five  per  cent,  was 
added  to  the  original  levy.  Mr.  Engler,  whose  tax  had 
been  collected  in  this  manner,  undertook  to  recover 
his  confiscated  goods  through  the  civil  court  by  a  writ  of 
replevin,  and  was  at  once  apprehended  and  sent  beyond 
the  lines  of  the  Union  army,1  where  he  had  leisure  to 
reflect  on  the  folly  of  deliberately  butting  against 
martial  law. 

Whatever  may  now  be  thought  of  General  Halleck's 
procedure  in  forcing  men  to  alleviate  the  misery  that 
they  had  helped  to  produce,  at  the  time  by  far  the  larger 
part  of  the  Unionists  of  our  city  heartily  sustained  it, 
and  it  did  much  toward  solving  the  problem  of  feeding 

1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  IV,  D.  of  E.,  p.  16. 
W.  R.  S.  2,  Vol.  I,  p.  160. 


244        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

the  multitude  of  refugees  among  us;  for,  by  army 
rations,  spontaneous  private  charity,  and  enforced 
assessments,  all  refugees  that  were  poor,  and  hungry, 
and  shelterless,  were  fairly  well  provided  for. 

But  we  were  constantly  agitated  by  events  outside 
our  gates  as  well  as  within.  During  1861  and  the  first 
three  months  of  1862,  there  were  fully  seventy  armed 
conflicts  in  Missouri.  We  called  them  battles  then, 
although  only  four  or  five  of  them  really  attained  to  that 
dignity.  And  we  all  knew  that  St.  Louis  was  the  object 
for  which  hostile  forces  were  fighting.  Although  we  held 
the  city,  the  enemy  was  bending  all  his  energies  to  snatch 
it  from  us.  Who  at  last  should  permanently  hold  the 
prize  none  could  yet  determine. 

But  our  volunteer  army  grew  apace.  Early  in  1862 
an  aggressive  campaign  was  planned  against  the  enemy 
in  the  southwest.  A  force  of  over  ten  thousand  well- 
armed  men  under  the  immediate  command  of  General 
Samuel  Ryan  Curtis,  swept  Price  and  his  army  from  our 
State;  and  at  Pea  Ridge,  Arkansas,  met  and  defeated 
the  combined  forces  of  Van  Dorn,  Price,  McCulloch 
and  Pike,  the  last  commanding  a  brigade  of  Indians. 

But  to  the  south  of  us  lay  a  greater  peril  than  that  in 
northwestern  Arkansas.  The  Confederates  had  seized, 
and  were  tenaciously  holding,  the  Tennessee,  Cumberland 
and  Mississippi  Rivers,  the  main  arteries  of  our  southern 
trade.  So  long  as  these  highways  of  commerce  were  ob 
structed,  the  business  of  our  city  languished.  More 
over,  if  the  forces  of  the  enemy  were  permitted  to  gather 
unmolested  on  these  water-courses,  they  would  soon 
be  able  to  march  against  us  in  battle  array.  To  meet 
this  impending  danger,  to  make  such  an  invasion  im 
practicable,  if  not  impossible,  by  the  order  of  General 
Halleck  an  army  was  rapidly  gathered  on  the  Mississippi 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  245 

above  Columbus,  Kentucky.  General  Grant  had  been 
fortunately  ordered  to  organize,  drill,  and  lead  these 
troops.  To  join  his  command  many  soldiers  were  sent 
by  Halleck  from  the  encampments  in  and  around  St. 
Louis.  I  saw  one  morning  a  regiment  of  stalwart  men 
from  Indiana,  marching  with  elastic  step  down  Pine 
Street  to  the  levee,  their  every  movement  instinct  with 
exuberant  life,  and  singing,  in  clear  strong  tones, 

"  John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave  ; 
John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave  ; 
John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mouldering  in  the  grave ; 

His  soul  is  marching  on ! 
Glory,  halle  -  hallelujah  !     Glory,  halle  -  hallelujah  I 

Glory,  halle  -  hallelujah  ! 

His  soul  is  marching  on." 

That  was  about  the  middle  of  January,  1862.  That 
famous  war  song  may  have  been  sung  before  in  our 
city,  but  this  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  heard  it.  It 
thrilled  me  through  and  through.  That  to  me  was  an 
ecstatic  moment.  So  it  evidently  was  to  the  crowd  that 
lined  the  street.  They  looked  on  as  if  entranced.  Tears 
started  in  many  eyes,  and  when  the  song,  so  prophetic 
of  triumph,  ended,  the  throng  burst  out  into  rapturous, 
ringing  cheers.  And  the  patriots  who  sang  those  inspir 
ing  words  were  on  their  way  to  swell  the  ranks  of  Grant's 
army.  Into  the  souls  of  all  that  heard  them  on  that 
day  came  the  assurance  of  victory. 

The  last  of  January,  General  Grant  led  his  army 
southward.  He  was  supported  by  a  fleet  of  gunboats 
under  the  command  of  Commodore  Foote.  The  move 
ment  was  without  ado,  unexpected  by  the  enemy,  and 
effective.  On  February  6th,  Fort  Henry  on  the  Ten 
nessee  River  was  captured  by  the  gunboats.  On  the 
12th,  the  general  led  his  army  across  the  country  and, 


246        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

with  considerable  fighting  during  the  afternoon,  invested 
Fort  Donelson  on  the  Cumberland  River.  On  the  next 
day,  while  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  gunboats, 
there  was  no  general  attack,  but  constant  skirmishing. 
On  the  14th,  the  enemy  repulsed  the  gunboats  and 
attacked  the  investing  army.  A  furious  battle  ensued, 
lasting  several  hours.  The  right  wing  of  Grant's  army 
was  at  first  driven  back.  The  report  reached  us  that  our 
troops  were  repulsed,  and  we  thought  that  the  campaign 
so  brilliantly  begun  had  failed.  We  did  not  then  know 
that  at  last  a  general  had  appeared  who  regarded  war 
as  a  serious  business,  which  at  all  hazards  must  be 
relentlessly  prosecuted  to  a  successful  issue;  who  if  he 
did  not  conquer  on  the  first  day,  fought  the  next,  and 
if  he  did  not  succeed  on  the  second  day,  only  waited  for 
the  dawn  of  the  third  that  he  might  renew  the  conflict. 
That  third  day  came  at  Fort  Donelson.  Grant  and  his 
troops,  in  spite  of  sleet  and  hail  and  snow  that  all  night 
had  pitilessly  beat  upon  their  tentless  heads,  were 
ready  for  the  fray.  But  the  enemy,  though  sheltered 
behind  breastworks,  felt  that  they  could  no  longer 
withstand  the  onslaughts  of  that  aggressive  host,  whom 
neither  storms  of  ice  nor  showers  of  bullets  could  daunt. 
Some  in  the  beleaguered  fort,  led  by  their  faint-hearted 
commanders,  had  slipped  away  under  the  cover  of  night, 
and  by  flight  reached  places  of  safety.  At  dawn 
General  Buckner,  to  whom  had  been  left  the  responsi 
bility  of  surrendering,  proposed  that  commissioners  be 
appointed  to  agree  upon  terms  of  capitulation  of  the 
forces  under  his  command,  and  received  from  Grant 
the  famous  reply,  now  familiar  to  every  schoolboy, 
"  No  terms,  except  unconditional  and  immediate  surren 
der,  can  be  accepted.  I  propose  to  move  immediately 
on  your  works."  When  the  telegraph  flashed  to  us 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  247 

those  immortal  words  every  loyal  heart  in  our  city 
overflowed  with  delight.  One  said  to  another:  "  We 
have  at  last  an  able  general  who  means  business." 

On  the  following  day,  February  17th,  the  news  of  the 
surrender  came.  More  than  fourteen  thousand  prisoners, 
with  forty  pieces  of  artillery,  thousands  of  small  arms 
and  large  quantities  of  commissary  stores  had  been 
taken,  and  the  Union  troops  occupied  the  fort.  In 
spontaneous  celebration  of  these  glad  tidings  from  all 
the  encampments  around  our  city  came  the  roar  of  can 
non;  brass  bands  played  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner" 
and  "  Yankee  Doodle;  "  the  Union  Merchants  Exchange 
laid  aside  all  business  and  sang  patriotic  songs;  large 
companies  of  Unionists,  drawn  together  by  some  irre 
sistible  impulse,  in  the  stores,  in  the  market,  on  the 
streets,  congratulated  each  other,  laughed,  clapped 
their  hands  and  stamped  their  feet  in  glee.  It  was  an 
hour  of  triumph;  and  the  Missouri  Democrat  issued  in 
hot  haste  an  extra,  heading  its  column  with  "  Te  Deum." 
It  thus  caught  and  expressed  the  sentiment  then  domi 
nant  in  all  loyal  hearts,  that  of  thanksgiving  and  praise 
to  God,  who  presides  over  and  directs  the  affairs  of 
nations  and  in  wisdom  withholds  or  grants  victories  to 
armies.  But  our  secession  neighbors  were  mute.  What 
gave  us  joy,  gave  them  pain.  At  such  times  we  always 
felt  it  to  be  sad  that  we  were  so  divided.  Both  of  us 
could  not  be  right.  That  which  separated  us  was  being 
decided  by  the  dread  arbitrament  of  battle,  and  the 
thought  began  to  penetrate  the  minds  of  the  more  con 
siderate  of  the  disloyal  that  after  all  the  Federal  govern 
ment  might  be  able  to  subdue  the  rebellion;  a  notion 
which,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  they  rejected  with 
ineffable  contempt. 

The  following  Saturday  was  Washington's  birthday. 


248       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

All  the  Unionists  of  the  city  were  in  fit  mood  for  its 
celebration.  The  victories  both  in  the  southwest  and 
south  filled  them  with  unbounded  satisfaction.  One  of 
the  morning  papers  accurately  reflected  their  state  of 
mind  by  declaring  that  "  the  last  vestige  of  military 
insurrection  had  been  swept  away."  So,  at  all  events, 
it  seemed  just  then.  The  curtain  of  the  future  for  the 
moment  graciously  hid  from  view  the  perils  that  still 
awaited  us.  So  on  that  22d  of  February  our  political 
horizon  was  bright.  Clouds  were  soon  to  arise;  but  on 
that  glad  day  we  saw  none  of  them.  Our  patriotism 
was  at  white  heat.  Nothing  could  repress  it;  it  flamed 
out.  Early  in  the  day  it  found  devout  expression.  At 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  Unionists  flocked  into 
the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  and  filled  it  to  overflow 
ing.  The  ablest  Protestant  pastors  of  the  city  were 
there.  We  sang  patriotic  hymns.  We  read  the  Scrip 
tures  together.  We  prayed  for  wisdom  and  strength 
that  we  might  do  our  delicate  and  difficult  duties  wisely 
and  courageously.  A  brother  read  to  us  significant 
portions  of  Washington's  farewell  address.  We  then 
stimulated  each  other  by  earnest  speeches  to  strive  on 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  Union.  So  at  the  beginning 
of  our  festivities  we  were  made  strong  by  entering  into 
fellowship  with  God. 

Before  noon  a  mammoth  procession  was  formed. 
Many  rode  in  carriages,  a  great  company  on  horseback, 
four  abreast,  and  a  host  marched  on  foot.  Every  vehicle, 
every  horse,  and  every  person  was  decorated  with,  or 
carried,  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  There  were  many  bands 
of  music.  Regiments  of  soldiers  were  in  the  procession, 
marching  to  patriotic  music,  discoursed  not  only  by 
brass  bands,  but  also  by  fife  and  drum.  It  took  two 
and  a  half  hours  for  the  procession  to  pass  any  given 


Halleck  and  His  Manifestoes  249 

point.  And  as  we  marched,  from  different  directions 
came  the  boom  of  cannon,  and  the  houses  all  along  our 
route  were  decked  with  flags  and  with  red,  white  and 
blue  bunting  intertwined,  while  crowds  of  the  loyal  on 
either  side  the  street  shouted  for  the  Union  and  sang 
war  songs.  Again  and  again  we  were  greeted  with, 

"  The  Union  forever,  hurrah  !    boys,  hurrah  ! 
Down  with  the  traitor,  up  with  the  star  ; 
While  we  rally  round  the  flag,  boys,  rally  once  again, 
Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  Freedom." 

While  this  procession  was  a  hearty,  spontaneous 
outburst  of  patriotism,  those  who  planned  it  intended 
to  make  as  profound  an  impression  as  possible  on  the 
disloyal  of  the  city.  They  wished  to  show  them  that 
no  party  among  us  adverse  to  the  Federal  government 
could  hereafter  have  any  reasonable  hope  of  withstand 
ing  this  mighty  tide  of  Unionism,  which  was  daily  rising 
higher  and  had  already  become  resistless.  In  this 
I  was  in  full  tide  of  sympathy  writh  my  fellow  Unionists. 
Accompanied  by  a  neighboring  pastor,  I  rode  a  horse 
over  the  whole  route  of  that  famous  procession,  with 
a  star-spangled  banner  on  my  horse's  head,  another  on 
the  lapel  of  my  coat,  and  a  third  in  my  hand.  Nor  was 
I  singular  in  this;  very  many  others  did  the  same.  As 
we  rode  the  Christian  pastor  at  my  side  said:  "  Is  not 
this  glorious?  Why,  you  can  see  the  shell  crack  and  the 
light  stream  in." 

Sunday  evening,  April  6th,  I  was  greatly  surprised 
and  delighted  to  see  my  old  mathematical  teacher, 
Major-General  Quinby,  come  into  church.  It  was  a  joy 
once  more  to  look  into  his  genial  face  and  to  feel  the  warm 
grasp  of  his  hand.  He  seemed  to  me  to  have  appeared 
just  in  the  nick  of  time.  For  many  days  I  had  been  very 


250       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

anxious  to  enlist  in  the  army,  and  here,  thought  I,  is 
my  chance  to  talk  the  whole  matter  over  with  one  that 
knows  me  well,  and  can  appreciate  my  aspirations. 
When  I  made  known  to  him  my  desire,  he  said  at  once 
that  I  could  have  a  place  on  his  staff,  but  thought  that  I 
ought  not  to  quit  my  post  at  St.  Louis.  He  felt  quite 
sure  that  I  could  do  the  country  more  good  by  remaining 
there  than  by  becoming  a  soldier  in  the  field.  Others 
urged  upon  me  the  same  view  of  the  case;  and  I  reluc 
tantly  abandoned  my  purpose  of  enlisting,  although  I 
had  had  for  many  weeks  a  burning  desire  to  be  in  the 
fight  at  the  front. 

On  the  9th  of  April  I  met  General  Quinby  at  the  levee, 
as  he  was  taking  a  steamer  to  go  down  the  Mississippi. 
He  was  with  General  Halleck,  with  wrhom  I  conversed, 
and  with  whom  I  was  most  favorably  impressed.  While 
few  fully  approved  of  all  his  measures,  he  had  been  a 
godsend  to  the  Unionists  of  the  city.  He  had  done  his 
duty  faithfully  and  fearlessly.  He  had  held  an  extremely 
difficult  position.  He  had  been  compelled  at  times  to 
listen  to  many  diverse  opinions,  yet  had  never  been  con 
fused  as  to  what  he  deemed  wise  and  just.  His  decisions 
had  been  clear.  He  had  carried  them  out  promptly 
and  thoroughly.  He  had,  to  be  sure,  unwittingly  sown 
dragon's  teeth  whose  harvest  tormented  some  of  his 
successors  in  command;  but  if  he  had  shown  as  much 
wisdom  in  the  field  as  he  did  in  our  city  and  State,  he 
would  have  made  himself  immortal.  But  when  he  went 
down  the  river  to  take  personal  command  of  the  army, 
he  apparently  left  his  wisdom  behind  him. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

REFUGEES 

IN  the  preceding  chapter  we  pointed  out  the  manner 
in  which  General  Halleck,  by  forced  assessments,  com 
pelled  the  more  wealthy  of  the  disloyal  of  St.  Louis  to 
assist  in  caring  for  the  refugees  among  us.  This  suggests 
our  varied  experiences  in  dealing  with  these  unfor 
tunates  that,  during  the  whole  period  of  the  war,  came 
flocking  in  upon  us,  not  only  from  Missouri,  but  also 
from  regions  farther  south.  When  General  Grant,  by 
his  masterful  campaign,  had  swept  all  obstructions 
from  the  Mississippi  River,  and  opened  up  western 
Kentucky,  western  Tennessee,  Mississippi,  Alabama, 
Arkansas,  and  northern  Texas,  poor  whites  and  negroes, 
freed  by  the  onward  march  of  our  victorious  army, 
fled,  in  ever-increasing  numbers,  from  all  that  con 
quered  territory,  to  our  city.  They  came  on  govern 
ment  transports,  came  by  boat-loads,  sent  by  Union 
generals  because  they  had  become  a  serious  impediment 
to  military  movements;  they  came  also  in  wagons  and 
carts  of  wonderful  make,  and  in  large  numbers  on  foot. 
St.  Louis  was  for  them  a  city  of  refuge. 

But  to  set  forth  clearly  the  problem  that  was  thrust 
upon  us  by  their  coming,  we  must  separate  the  hetero 
geneous  multitude  that  appealed  to  us  for  charity  into 
homogeneous  classes.  We  certainly  cannot  justly  af 
firm  the  same  things  of  them  all.  Here,  as  elsewhere 
in  society,  we  found  different  and  interesting  types. 


252        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

First  of  all  there  were  some  loyal  white  refugees. 
While  most  of  these  were  from  the  western  and  interior 
counties  of  our  own  State,  a  few  came  from  States  farther 
south.  They  fled  from  their  homes,  which  had  been 
made  unsafe  by  rebel  guerrillas  and  bushwhackers. 
So  far  as  possible  they  had  converted  their  property 
into  money,  which  they  brought  with  them.  They  came 
to  stay.  Some  of  them  purchased  residences  in  St. 
Louis.  Many  of  them,  by  the  stern  logic  of  war,  had 
become  emancipationists,  while  they  retained  some 
of  their  old  prejudices.  The  notion  that  everything 
vile  lurked  under  the  harmless  word,  abolitionist,  had 
been  woven  into  the  very  tissue  of  their  being.  They 
persistently  believed  that  there  were  at  least  three 
devils  in  the  North  and  East :  an  editorial  devil,  Horace 
Greeley;  a  clerical  devil,  Henry  Ward  Beecher;  and 
a  lecturing  devil,  Wendell  Phillips.  But  war  by  its 
victories  and  defeats  gradually  illuminated  their  minds. 
The  horns  and  hoofs  of  these  imaginary  devils  slowly 
faded  from  their  vision.  And  a  few  years  after  the 
surrender  at  Appomattox,  many  of  these  very  men  by 
tongue  and  ballot  endeavored  to  make  the  editorial 
devil  President  of  the  United  States. 

But  there  was  a  still  larger  number  of  rebel  refugees. 
They  were  usually  found  in  knots  at  boarding-houses 
kept  by  Southern  sympathizers.  They  were  always 
hilarious  when  the  rebel  army  was  victorious,  and 
crestfallen  when  it  suffered  defeat.  Most  of  them  had 
sufficient  means,  snatched  from  the  ravages  of  war,  to 
sustain  them  in  comfort.  A  few  of  them  were  rich. 
For  the  most  part  they  were  permitted  to  live  in  peace 
among  us,  securely  shielded  by  the  government  that 
they  sought  to  overthrow.  Occasionally,  they  were 
found  aiding  those  in  arms  against  the  United  States, 


Refugees  253 

and  a  few  of  them,  as  we  have  already  noted,  were 
arrested  and  sent  beyond  the  lines  of  the  Federal  army. 

But  by  far  the  most  numerous  class  of  refugees  were 
poor  and  wretched  beyond  description.  They  entered 
St.  Louis  in  rags,  often  hatless  and  shoeless,  sallow,  lean, 
half-starved,  unkempt.  Very  many  of  them  were 
women  and  children  in  pitiable  plight,  half  naked, 
shivering,  penniless,  dispirited.  Most  of  them  professed 
to  be  loyal.  Their  husbands  and  fathers  had  been 
killed  because  they  were  Union  men.  Some  of  them 
were  the  wives  and  children  of  Union  volunteer  soldiers 
from  Arkansas;  on  that  account  the  rebels  drove  them 
from  their  homes.  Moreover,  the  Confederates,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  recruited  their  armies  from  the 
poor  whites,  whose  families  they  left  to  find  their  way 
into  the  Union  lines.  But  many  that  came  were  dazed. 
They  hardly  knew  why  the  war  was  being  waged. 
Whether  they  were  loyal  or  disloyal  it  would  have 
puzzled  the  most  astute  to  find  out.  Pinching  want 
had  driven  them  from  their  comfortless  dwellings  in 
the  South.  Their  main  quest  was  bread. 

But  while  in  tatters  and  gaunt  with  hunger,  most  of 
them  were  utterly  unwilling  to  work.  They  regarded 
manual  labor  as  a  disgrace.  They  had  been  taught  in 
the  school  of  slavery  that  honest  toil  was  servile  and 
ignoble.  The  notion  quite  generally  prevailed  among 
them  that  since  they  had  fled  from  rebeldom,  the 
government  was  under  obligation  to  feed  and  clothe 
them,  while  they  sat  down  in  idleness  and  glumly 
received  its  gifts.  What  charity  added  to  government 
supplies  they  thoughtlessly  consumed,  and  then 
stretched  out  empty,  thriftless  hands  for  more. 

An  incident  or  two  will  present  in  concrete  form 
their  aristocratic  notions  concerning  labor.  James 


254       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

E.  Yeatman,  President  of  the  Western  Sanitary 
Commission,  became  deeply  interested  in  a  girl  of 
sixteen,  belonging  to  a  refugee  family  from  Arkansas. 
With  considerable  personal  effort  he  secured  for  her  the 
position  of  nurse-girl  in  a  household  where  her  highest 
good,  in  every  way,  would  have  been  sought.  Rejoicing 
in  doing  a  benevolent  deed,  though  a  very  busy  man, 
with  great  responsibilities  weighing  on  mind  and  heart, 
he  drove  more  than  two  miles  to  apprise  her  mother  of 
his  success.  The  family  were  living  on  government 
rations,  and  every  article  of  their  dress  showed  their 
extreme  poverty;  but  the  mother  met  this  offer  of  a 
place  for  her  half-starved  child  by  exclaiming:  "W'at, 
my  darter  a  sarvant  and  work  like  a  niggah!  no,  sah! 
she'll  rot  fust!  "  "Very  well,  madam,"  with  righteous 
indignation  replied  Mr.  Yeatman,  "let  her  rot;"  and 
jumping  into  his  buggy,  drove  hurriedly  back  to  his 
office  in  the  city. 

I  visited  a  family  of  this  class  at  the  Virginia  Hotel, 
an  old  hostelry,  which  was  used  as  an  asylum  for 
freedmen  and  white  refugees.  The  room  adjoining 
one  occupied  by  a  family  of  refugees  had  been  assigned 
to  a  negro.  These  refugees  were  clothed  in  rags  and 
were  barefooted.  The  unkempt  hair  of  the  wife  and 
mother  was  a  mass  of  matted  tangles.  In  their  cheer 
less  apartment  there  was  neither  stove  nor  bed.  They 
slept  on  straw  and  ate  from  the  hand  of  charity.  While 
I  was  taking  in  the  situation  and  speaking  an 
encouraging  word,  a  benevolent  lady  stepped  in  to 
relieve  their  pressing  wants,  but,  strange  to  tell,  found 
their  pride  sorely  mortified,  not  by  their  personal  appear 
ance  nor  by  the  litter  and  filth  in  which  they  were  living, 
but  because  there  was  a  negro  in  the  next  room.  The 
mother  voiced  the  complaint  of  that  poverty-stricken 


Refugees  255 

household,  by  saying,  in  a  peculiar  drawl:  "I  say  now, 
we'uns  doan  think  that  ah  sooperintend  ort  to  put  that 
niggah  in  thah;  we'uns  doan  like  that  ah  purty  wal." 

I  stepped  into  the  adjoining  apartment  that  I  might 
see  what  had  so  offended  these  aristocratic  paupers, 
and  found  that  the  negro,  a  contraband  or  fugitive 
from  bondage,  had  entered  his  room  at  the  same  time 
that  the  white  refugees  had  entered  theirs.  But  he 
had  found  an  old  broom  and  had  swept  his  room,  an 
old  stove  and  had  put  it  up;  had  gathered  some  soft 
coal  to  burn  in  it;  had  gotten  somewhere  a  rickety  bed 
stead  and  set  it  up  and  had  put  on  it  a  tick  filled  with 
straw.  He  had  procured  a  wash-basin,  a  cracked  looking- 
glass,  and  something  to  eat.  While  his  room  was  bare 
and  poor  enough,  he  had  made  it  look  in  some  measure 
homelike.  At  all  events  he  greatly  distanced  his  squalid 
white  neighbors,  who  felt  degraded  by  his  presence. 

Most  of  the  white  refugees  were  illiterates.  Their 
ignorance  was  so  dense  that  we  are  in  no  danger  of 
exaggerating  it.  I  once  sat  down  by  the  side  of  a  sick 
boy  of  this  class,  who  lay  on  a  dirty  blanket  spread  on 
the  floor.  His  mother,  also  ill,  lay  near  him.  She  was 
afraid  that  he  would  die.  They  had  fled  from  Bates- 
ville,  Arkansas,  and  exposure  to  cold  and  rain,  while 
on  their  journey,  had  brought  on  fever.  She  could  not 
read  and  knew  very  little  of  the  world  outside  of  the 
neighborhood  where,  up  to  that  time,  she  had  spent 
her  life.  Her  sick  son  was  fifteen  years  old.  She  wished 
me  to  talk  with  him,  which  I  was  glad  to  do.  I  told 
him  of  Christ,  who  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners, 
and  was  ready  to  save  him.  He  listened  eagerly,  but 
soon  said:  "  If  you  mean  by  sin  cussin,  I  never  done 
that."  When  I  told  him  of  Jesus  he  looked  intently 
into  my  face,  and  said:  "I  never  heard  of  him  before." 


256        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

I  felt  myself  to  be  a  real  missionary,  sent  to  tell  one 
poor,  sick  boy,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  city,  of  the 
Saviour,  who  then  and  there  was  ready  to  receive  him 
as  his  child.  But  these  cases  were  not  rare  among  poor 
whites.  The  few  that  could  read  formed  the  exceptional 
class. 

Moreover,  a  large  part  of  them  were  discouraged, 
downhearted,  often  utterly  hopeless.  Very  many  of 
them  also  were  ill.  For  a  considerable  period  about 
fifty  per  cent,  of  the  poor  white  refugees,  when  they 
reached  our  city,  were  sent  to  hospitals.  It  was  ex 
tremely  difficult  to  care  for  them.  Unaccustomed  to 
the  ordinary  comforts  of  intelligent  and  thrifty  com 
munities,  they  had  little  or  no  appreciation  of  the  things 
offered  to  them  by  the  benevolent  to  alleviate  their 
sufferings.  The  delicacies  usually  so  highly  prized  by 
the  sick  were  manifestly  repulsive  to  many  of  them. 
Some  Christian  women,  anxious  to  do  what  they  could 
to  help  and  cheer  them,  carried  to  the  hospital  preserved 
fruits  and  jellies.  Rejoicing  in  doing  good  to  those  in 
distress,  they  personally  offered  them  these  tempting 
delicacies,  prepared  by  their  own  hands.  But  the 
wretched  sufferers,  having  never  seen  nor  tasted  such 
food,  said  to  the  angels  of  mercy  that  urged  them  to 
partake,  "  We'uns  don't  want  that  ah;  bring  us  clabber 
and  cawn  cakes,  that's  what  we'uns  like." 

A  few  days  after  I  visited  the  same  hospital  and 
talked  with  the  surgeon  in  charge  of  it.  He  told  me 
that  the  sick  refugees  seemed  to  be  utterly  destitute  of 
heart  and  hope,  and  that  it  was  quite  impossible  to 
get  such  dejected  men  upon  their  feet  again.  While 
he  spoke  the  clock  struck  twelve.  "  Before  nine  o'clock," 
he  said,  "I  visited  every  man  in  the  hospital  and  care 
fully  noted  his  condition.  I  did  not  find  one  desperately 


Refugees  257 

ill,  nor  did  I  see  any  evidence  of  approaching  death. 
But  since  that  time  three  of  them  have  died."  "  And 
how,"  I  asked,  "do  you  account  for  their  deaths?  " 
He  replied,  "They  die  simply  because  they  have  not 
enough  ambition  to  breathe." 

But  of  course  they  were  not  all  alike.  Their  differences 
were  interesting  and  suggestive.  A  gentleman  told 
me  that  a  Baptist  woman  from  Mississippi  wished  to 
see  me.  I  found  her  on  Third  Street,  in  the  second 
story  of  a  tumble-down  brick  house.  She  was  not  an 
object  of  charity.  She  had  brought  along  with  her 
enough  money  and  household  stuff  to  meet  all  of  her 
bodily  wants.  But  the  things  in  her  room  seemed  to 
be  in  inextricable  confusion.  She  apparently  had  a 
genius  for  disorder.  Her  apartment  was  grimy,  filthy, 
malodorous;  like  the  king's  " offence  "  in  "  Hamlet,"  it 
was  rank  and  smelled  to  heaven.  She  was  of  medium 
height,  fat,  had  brown,  frowzy  hair,  and  dull,  leaden 
eyes,  under  dust-colored  eyebrows.  Her  cheeks  were 
sallow  and  flabby.  Around  her  obesity  hung  a  faded, 
dirty,  calico  gown,  that  did  not  quite  reach  her  ankles. 
Her  bare  feet  were  conspicuous,  thrust  into  a  pair  of 
coarse  slippers,  with  worn-down,  run-over  heels.  Hang 
ing  to  her  belt  by  her  side  was  a  cow's  horn,  in  which 
was  a  stick,  frayed  at  one  end,  making  a  rude  brush. 
She  offered  me  a  chair,  and  having  seated  herself  by  a 
rusty,  rickety  cooking-stove,  our  conversation  began. 
"Ah  ye,"  she  said,  "the  Babtis'  minister?  "  I  told  her 
who  I  was.  She  now  took  the  stick  from  the  horn  at 
her  side,  put  the  brush  end  of  it  into  her  mouth  and 
sucked  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  thrusting  it  once 
more  into  the  horn,  returned  it,  laden  with  snuff,  to  her 
mouth  again.  I  had  heard  of  snuff-dippers,  but  this 
was  the  first  one  that  I  had  ever  seen.  Apparently 


258        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

refreshed  by  her  dip,  she  said  that  she  was  a  member 
of  a  "Babtis'  "  church  down  in  "  Mississippi'  and 
wished  to  "jine "  a  "Babtis'  "  church  here  in  St. 
Louis.  What  could  I  say  to  such  a  proposal?  I  saw 
at  a  glance  that  unless  she  was  thoroughly  converted 
from  her  present  habits  and  mode  of  life  my  church 
would  not  be  congenial  to  her;  so  I  fell  back  upon  a 
stratagem,  by  which  I  might  satisfy  her  without  denying 
her  request,  which  request,  in  itself,  was  of  course 
altogether  creditable  to  her.  I  fled  for  refuge  to  the 
deep  prejudice  of  the  poor  whites  against  negroes. 
I  commended  her,  I  could  not  do  otherwise,  for  her 
determination  to  identify  herself  with  her  own  denomi 
nation  in  our  city,  but  told  her  that  a  negro  belonged 
to  my  church,  and  that  I  had  never  heard  any  one  in 
the  church  object  to  it,  and  that  she  might  not  on  that 
account  feel  at  home  there.  I  did  not  tell  her  that  he 
was  the  sexton,  and  had,  before  his  manumission,  belonged 
to  one  of  my  deacons.  But  the  fact  that  I  did  lay  before 
her  was  sufficient  for  my  purpose.  Her  prejudice  was 
aroused;  even  her  dull  eyes  for  a  moment  shot  fire,  as 
she  declared  that  she  would  never  "  jine  "  a  church 
that  had  a  "niggah"  in  it.  Thus  ended  my  call. 
But  I  found  in  my  varied  labors  on  their  behalf,  that 
most  women  among  them  were  free  from  the  disgusting 
habit  of  snuff-dipping,  and  that  some  of  them  were  not 
violently  prejudiced  against  negroes.  If  in  a  measure 
all  entertained  such  prejudice,  some  at  least  held  it 
in  reasonable  abeyance.  A  woman  of  this  sort  became 
a  member  of  my  church.  She  was  ordinarily  neat  in 
appearance,  but  could  neither  read  nor  write.  She 
had  lived  in  a  back  country  place  in  Tennessee,  where 
most  of  those  with  whom  she  daily  associated  were 
illiterates.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  her  husband 


Refugees  259 

became  a  volunteer  Union  soldier.  On  that  account 
she  was  harassed  and  tormented  by  the  people  of  her 
neighborhood  so  that  she  fled  to  St.  Louis  for  asylum, 
where  soon  after  her  husband's  regiment  was  encamped. 
Being  an  earnest  Christian,  she  at  once  united  with  the 
church;  but  her  husband  was  soon  sent  South  to 
engage  in  active  service  in  the  field.  He  knew  how  to 
write,  and  she  often  received  letters  from  him,  which 
she  could  not  read.  She  was  deeply  mortified  in  being 
compelled  to  ask  others  to  read  to  her  her  husband's 
letters  and  to  write  hers  in  reply.  Spurred  by  her  sense 
of  shame,  she  resolved  to  overcome  her  defect.  And 
such  was  her  ability  that  in  a  few  weeks  she  could  both 
read  and  answer  her  husband's  letters  without  any  help 
from  others.  I  shall  never  forget  the  triumphant  joy 
with  which  she  told  me  that  in  a  letter  just  received, 
her  husband  assured  her  that  he  was  able  to  read  every 
word  that  she  had  written  him.  Then  she  said  to  me, 
"Where  I  lived  in  Tennessee  hardly  anybody  could 
read  and  write,  and  I  never  thought  of  learning;  but 
up  here,  where  everybody  reads  and  writes,  I  felt  awfully 
ashamed  that  I  couldn't,  so  I  said  I  must  know  how 
too."  And  with  great  glee,  she  added,  "I  do  now." 
During  all  the  period  of  the  war  she  was  a  very  efficient 
Christian  worker  in  the  encampments  and  hospitals 
in  and  around  our  city.  This  was  another  species  of 
the  white  refugees;  a  class  that  had  the  will  and  native 
talent  to  overcome  their  disabilities  and  rise  to  a  higher 
rank  in  the  social  scale. 

There  were  also  many  among  them  who  were  improv 
ident  and  wasteful.  Still  some  of  this  class  were  teach 
able.  I  remember  a  widow  with  three  little  daughters 
who  came  up  from  Arkansas.  She  had  there  some  real 
estate,  but  being  a  Unionist,  she  had  been  compelled 


260        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

by  the  violence  of  her  secession  neighbors  to  leave  in 
hot  haste.  Having  had  neither  time  nor  opportunity 
to  convert  her  holdings  into  money,  on  her  arrival  in 
St.  Louis,  she  found  herself  in  want,  and  was  forced, 
for  a  time,  to  depend  on  charity  for  the  bare  necessities 
of  life.  She  could  neither  read  nor  write,  but  was  a 
sincere  Christian,  and  anxious  to  do  her  best.  She  and 
her  children  were  decent  in  appearance.  She  united 
with  my  church  and  as  often  as  she  could  attended  the 
public  services.  The  good  women  of  my  congregation 
took  her  under  their  care  and  generously  provided  for 
her.  Among  other  things  they  gave  her  a  boiled  ham, 
and  were  greatly  disheartened  by  finding,  two  or  three 
days  after,  that  when  she  and  her  children  had  eaten  a 
part  of  it,  she  had  thrown  the  rest  of  it  out  of  the  win 
dow.  In  the  heat  of  the  moment  they  declared  that  they 
would  never  help  her  any  more.  But  I  pleaded  for 
her.  I  told  them  that  what  seemed  to  them  inexcusable 
wastefulness  was  simply  her  habit  of  life,  and  that  they 
must  talk  kindly  with  her  about  it,  and  if  possible, 
lead  her  to  live  reasonably  and  economically.  They 
did  so.  She  received  their  instructions  with  hearty 
thanks,  declaring  that  she  had  done  only  what  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  do  at  her  home  in  Arkansas,  but 
that  she  would  now  act  according  to  their  wishes  and 
directions.  Soon  there  was  manifest  improvement  in 
her  humble  home,  and  in  the  personal  appearance  of 
herself  and  her  little  daughters.  She  sent  them  to  the 
public  school.  They  soon  learned  to  read.  Great  was 
her  joy  when  they  could  read  to  her  their  Sunday-school 
books  and  the  New  Testament.  At  the  close  of  the  war 
she  sold  her  property  in  Arkansas,  and  bought  a  place 
a  few  miles  from  St.  Louis  in  Illinois.  The  last  time  I 
saw  her  was  at  the  depot,  across  the  river,  whither  she 


Refugees  261 

had  gone  with  her  children,  to  take  the  cars  for  her  new 
home.  They  were  plainly  but  neatly  dressed.  They 
had  been  transformed  by  the  patient,  kindly  work  of 
intelligent  Christian  women.  They  had  found  a  new  life 
and  were  radiant  with  joy.  So  to  me,  the  curtain  fell  on 
that  scene.  With  renewed  confidence  I  went  back  to 
the  city  and  to  my  labors,  feeling  how  richly  it  paid  to 
work  for  poor  white  refugees. 

But  the  greatness  of  their  number  appalled  us.  During 
the  war  nearly  forty  thousand  entered  our  gates.  To 
care  adequately  and  discriminatingly  for  such  a  multi 
tude,  many  of  whom,  as  we  have  already  seen,  were 
densely  ignorant  and  averse  to  honest  toil,  was  a  task 
too  vast  for  a  city  of  not  more  than  a  hundred  and 
fifty-two  thousand  inhabitants.  So  in  this,  as  in  every 
great  need  engendered  by  the  war,  the  Federal  govern 
ment,  through  its  military  officers,  lent  a  strong,  helping 
hand;  while  the  Sanitary  Commission,  whose  work  we 
propose  to  set  forth  in  a  subsequent  chapter,  took  a 
leading  part  in  this  great  and  urgent  charity.  Through 
this  triune  agency,  among  many  projects  inaugurated 
to  meet  the  wants  of  the  refugees,  a  six-story  building, 
the  precursor  of  several  others  of  like  character,  was 
fitted  up  for  their  accommodation.  Into  it  a  thousand 
of  them  were  put.  Here  they  were  not  simply  lodged 
and  fed,  but  were  taught  to  read  and  write.  They  were 
also  set  at  various  kinds  of  manual  labor,  and  while 
this  to  many  of  them  was  the  bitterest  ingredient  in 
their  cup,  it  helped  pay  their  way,  and  gave  them  truer 
and  higher  ideas  of  work.  And  in  all  our  manifold 
efforts  on  their  behalf,  we  endeavored  not  simply  to 
feed  and  clothe  them,  but  also  to  meet  their  higher 
needs,  to  develop  their  minds  and  elevate  their  morals. 

But  the  presentation  of  our  experiences  with  the 


262        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

refugees  would  not  be  complete  without  at  least  a  brief 
survey  of  the  freedmen  or  fugitives  from  bondage. 
After  General  Benjamin  F.  Butler,  in  1861,  had  felici 
tously  decided  that  slaves  captured  by  his  troops,  or 
fleeing  into  his  lines,  were  contraband  of  war,  and  so 
justly  subject  to  confiscation,  throughout  the  North 
they  were  generally  designated  contrabands,  and  they 
usually  bore  that  name  among  us.  While  from  first 
to  last  a  multitude  of  them  of  various  shades  of  color 
fled  to  our  city,  they  were  by  no  means  as  numerous 
as  the  white  refugees;  and  while  they  were  all  illiterate, 
having  been  inured  to  labor  they  were  usually  ready  to 
engage  in  any  menial  service.  Those  who  had  been 
trained  in  household  work  were  at  once  employed  by 
the  best  families  of  the  city;  while  many  field  hands, 
that  came  to  us  in  the  winter,  had  to  be  cared  for  by  the 
government  and  by  private  charity,  until  spring,  when 
most  of  them  found  remunerative  work  in  cleaning  up 
yards,  cultivating  gardens,  and  on  farms  outside  the 
city.  Only  a  small  contingent  remained  to  tax  our 
benevolence.  Some  of  these  were  spiritless  and  thrift 
less;  and  some  were  crippled  or  sick.  However,  since 
the  contrabands,  taken  as  a  whole,  were  ready  to  work, 
and  were  greatly  delighted,  for  the  first  time  in  their 
lives,  to  work  for  wages,  the  problem  of  caring  for  them 
was  comparatively  an  easy  one. 

Many  suggestive  incidents  pertaining  to  them,  some 
sad,  some  mirth-provoking,  came  under  my  eye.  The 
contrabands  usually  trudged  into  the  city  in  groups, 
bearing  in  their  hands  or  on  their  shoulders  budgets, 
filled  with  old  clothing  or  useless  traps,  their  heads 
covered  with  dilapidated  hats  or  caps,  or,  in  the  case  of 
the  women,  wrapped  about  with  red  bandanas.  Their 
garments  were  coarse,  often  tattered,  and  usually  quite 


Refugees  263 

insufficient  to  shield  them  against  the  cold  of  winter. 
They  wore  shoes  and  boots  of  cowhide  which  in  very 
many  cases  were  nearly  worn  out,  so  that  often  their 
black  toes  protruded.  But  one  cold,  frosty,  winter 
day  a  motley  company  of  fugitives,  men,  women  and 
children,  came  marching  in  barefooted.  We  asked  them 
how  they  came  to  be  in  such  a  wretched  plight?  They 
said  that  as  they  were  going  "long  de  road  "  out  in  the 
country,  some"Confed  sogers  "  seized  them,  set  them  on 
a  bank  by  the  roadside,  and  pulled  off  their  shoes,  and 
then  told  them  just  to  run  for  their  lives.  Their  unusual 
predicament,  and  the  unanimity  and  heartiness  of  their 
artless  testimony,  convinced  all  who  heard  that  they 
told  the  truth.  It  might  have  been  horse-play  on  the 
part  of  some  company  of  the  State  Guards,  but  if  so,  it 
was  a  grim  and  terrible  joke  to  this  knot  of  contrabands, 
compelling  them  to  walk  many  miles  with  bare  feet 
along  frozen,  snowy  roads,  the  feet  of  the  little  children 
frost-bitten  and  bleeding. 

An  occurrence  vastly  more  pathetic  was  woven  into 
my  pastoral  experience.  A  slaveholder  of  the  cruel  sort 
lived  near  Jefferson  City.  There  belonged  to  him  a 
little  girl  eight  years  old,  together  with  her  mother 
and  aunt.  The  early  winter  of  1861  and  1862  was 
bitterly  cold.  During  one  of  the  severest  days  of  that 
trying  season,  the  thermometer  hovering  about  zero, 
he  compelled  these  two  women  to  saw  wood  all  day 
out  in  the  open  air,  and  the  mite  of  a  girl  to  bring  the 
sawed  sticks  into  his  wood-shed.  With  hands  stinging 
from  the  biting  frost,  they  besought  him  to  let  them 
warm  themselves  by  the  fire;  and  he  answered  their 
petition  with  the  lash.  Before  the  day  ended  they 
nearly  perished  and  the  fingers  of  the  child  were  frozen. 
That  night  they  determined  to  run  away.  They  knew 


264        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

that  on  account  of  the  war  many  other  slaves  were 
quitting  their  masters;  why  should  not  they  flee  from 
the  cruelty  of  theirs?  In  the  darkness  the  following 
night  they  slipt  away  unobserved.  They  headed  for 
St.  Louis.  The  little  child,  always  feeble,  was  soon 
exhausted.  So  the  mother  and  aunt  by  turns  carried 
her  on  their  backs.  They  hid  in  ravines  and  thickets, 
when  they  thought  themselves  in  danger.  They  ate 
the  crackers  and  bread  that  they  brought  with  them. 
They  slept  by  haystacks  and  in  outhouses.  They 
were  frost-bitten.  They  were  full  of  fear  lest  the  child 
should  die.  For  seventy-five  or  eighty  miles  they 
breasted  wind  and  snow,  when  they  met  a  squad  of 
Union  soldiers,  and  asked  them  for  protection  and 
guidance.  The  soldiers  as  best  they  could  supplied 
their  wants,  and  conducted  them  to  St.  Louis.  There 
the  doors  of  a  Christian  home  opened  to  them.  No 
longer  slaves,  they  were  happy.  Those  who  employed 
them  spoke  to  them  kindly.  The  lash  was  never  again 
to  lacerate  their  quivering  flesh.  They  were  justly  paid 
for  their  toil.  They  owned  themselves.  They  had  no 
words  to  express  the  joy  of  it  all. 

But  the  bitter  was  mingled  with  the  sweet.  That 
perilous  flight  from  bondage  with  the  chilling  winds 
and  snows  beating  upon  them  proved  fatal  to  the  child 
that  they  so  tenderly  loved.  From  exposure  during 
that  long  winter  journey  on  foot  consumption  fastened 
itself  upon  her.  She  was  happy,  however,  even  in  her 
extreme  sickness.  The  children  in  the  household  loved 
and  petted  her.  Little  children  have  no  prejudice 
against  color.  But  she  grew  weaker  day  by  day.  She 
had  some  notion  that  God  loved  her,  and  that  Jesus 
would  come  and  take  her  to  heaven.  And  on  her  cot, 
with  her  face  turned  upward,  she  sank  as  gently  to  her 


Refugees  265 

long  slumber  as  the  infant  falls  asleep  in  its  mother's 
arms. 

At  this  time,  when  ruthless  war,  without  respect  to 
slave  laws,  was  breaking  the  chains  of  bondmen,  two 
contrabands  became  servants  under  my  own  roof.  One 
of  them  was  a  black  man  about  twenty-five  years  old. 
He  said  his  name  was  Jim,  and  so  we  called  him,  though 
his  full  name  was  James  Jackson.  He  did  the  rougher 
work  required  by  the  household,  split  the  wood,  brought 
in  the  coal,  kept  the  yard  in  trim,  ran  errands,  and  cared 
for  the  horse  and  carriage.  He  proved  to  be  teachable 
and  trustworthy.  According  to  his  light,  he  was  a  good 
man.  One  day  when  he  was  splitting  wood,  I  said  to 
him:  "Jim,  they  say  that  if  you  negroes  are  set  free 
you  will  not  be  able  to  take  care  of  yourselves,  to  earn 
your  own  living.  What  do  you  say  to  that?  "  He  left 
his  axe  sticking  in  the  log  that  he  was  splitting  and  fell 
into  a  brown  study,  but  soon  replied:  "I'se  can't  see 
that.  We'se  took  care  of  them  and  us  too  for  a  long 
time,  and  can't  we'se  take  care  of  ourselves?  "  That 
seemed  to  be  good  reasoning,  and  I  felt  sure  that  Jim 
could  earn  his  own  way. 

He  said  that  he  would  like  to  learn  to  read,  and  for 
a  good  many  weeks  I  tried  to  instruct  him  in  the  art. 
But  being  utterly  unaccustomed  to  that  sort  of  mental 
effort,  he  made  very  slow  progress.  However,  by  degrees, 
he  mastered  the  names  of  the  letters,  and  was  able  with 
painful  effort  to  read  a  few  of  the  simplest  words.  He 
was  a  Christian  and  wanted  to  read  the  Bible.  So  I 
bought  him  a  New  Testament  of  large,  plain  print  and, 
after  a  hard  struggle,  he  was  seemingly  able  to  read 
the  text:  "Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  He  was  very 
happy  over  his  acquisition,  and  so  was  I.  He  would 


266        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

read  that  text  over  and  over  again.  He  had  no  doubt 
that  he  really  read  it,  nor  had  I.  But  wishing  him  to 
add  something  to  his  acquisitions,  I  turned  to  another 
chapter  in  the  Gospel  of  Matthew,  and,  putting  my 
ringer  on  a  verse,  asked  him  to  read  it.  He  intently 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  it  and  began:  "Come  unto  me, 
all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest."  I  asked  him  to  read  another  verse,  in  another 
chapter,  and  running  his  finger  along  the  words,  he 
read:  "Come  unto  me,  etc."  I  afterwards  found  him 
at  times  reading  his  New  Testament,  but  I  feel  quite 
sure  that  he  never  found  anything  in  it  except  that 
gracious,  tender  invitation  of  his  Saviour.  He  of  course 
read  simply  from  his  memory,  but  thought  that  he  read 
from  his  book. 

I  afterwards  united  him  in  marriage  to  an  excellent 
colored  woman.  They  set  up  housekeeping  for  them 
selves.  They  did  well  and  were  happy.  Whether  Jim 
lives  now  or  not,  I  do  not  know,  but  if  he  has  passed 
away,  I  am  sure  that  in  the  hour  of  his  death  he  heard 
his  Lord  say:  "Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

The  other  contraband  servant  was  a  middle-aged 
woman,  who  gave  her  name  as  Harriet.  She  was  large 
and  muscular,  and  black  as  ink.  She  would  pick  up, 
as  though  it  were  a  trifle,  a  washtub  full  of  water  and 
carry  it  across  the  room.  Nothing  seemed  to  weary  her, 
She  did  cheerfully  her  daily  tasks.  She  was  happy  in 
her  new-found  freedom.  To  receive  week  by  week 
money  for  her  labor  made  her  cup  of  joy  brim  over. 
The  dawning  consciousness  that  she  belonged  to  herself 
and  had  a  right  to  what  she  earned  filled  her  with 
unspeakable  gladness. 

She  too  had  an  abiding  trust  in  Christ.    She  said  she 


Refugees  267 

was  "  Methdis."  She  had  an  active  mind.  She  was 
intellectually  much  brighter  than  Jim.  Her  new  con 
dition  and  surroundings  awakened  within  her  mind 
many  inquiries.  Busy  with  her  new  thoughts  as  she 
worked,  one  day  she  said:  "Dar  ah  some  tings  that  I 
doan  unerstan.  Up  in  de  State  where  I  lived,  wen  thar 
was  'vival  meetin  an  dey  wanted  us  to  be  good  and 
'jine'  de  chuch,  den  we  had  souls;  but  wen  dey  wants 
to  sell  us  down  souf,  den  we  has  no  souls.  Can  you 
tell  me  about  dat?  Seems  mighty  strange!  " 

This  was  an  outburst  from  an  honest,  sturdy  soul, 
that  had  been  kept  in  ignorance.  It  vividly  revealed 
the  antagonistic  forces  that  often  battled  for  supremacy 
in  the  minds  of  Christian  slaveholders.  When  they 
sorely  needed  money  they  stifled  their  consciences  with 
the  figment  that  their  slaves  were  merely  beasts,  that 
might  be  sold  with  impunity;  but  when  their  better 
selves  were  touched  by  heavenly  influences,  they  felt 
that  their  chattels  had  immortal  souls  that  might  be 
saved  or  lost.  It  has  been  said  that  some  men,  like 
modern  ships,  are  made  up  of  distinct  compartments, 
which,  in  moral  action,  have  no  communication  with 
each  other.  So  it  seems  to  have  been  with  some  pro 
fessedly  Christian  slaveholders;  at  slave  sales  and 
whipping-posts  the  tyrant  compartment  was  in  full  and 
exclusive  activity;  while  at  revival  meetings  the  Chris 
tian  compartment  put  forth  its  exclusive  energy. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

DIFFICULT  CURRENCY 

WHEN  the  Federal  government,  soon  after  the  break 
ing  out  of  the  war,  began  to  issue  paper  money,  all 
specie,  both  gold  and  silver,  speedily  disappeared.  For 
many  years  the  five-cent  piece  had  been  the  smallest 
coin  used  in  the  stores  and  markets  of  St.  Louis.  It 
was  silver,  since  the  day  of  the  nickel  had  not  yet  come. 
The  copper  cent,  then  large  and  cumbersome,  was 
absolutely  tabooed  in  our  city;  it  was  nowhere  current 
except  at  the  post-office.  This  was  always  a  surprise  to 
newcomers,  and  sometimes  an  embarrassment.  A  lady, 
who  was  a  comparative  stranger  to  our  customs,  going 
to  the  market  when  cabbages  were  unusully  abundant, 
asked  a  vender  the  price  of  them,  and  was  quite  upset 
when  he  replied,  "  Six  for  five  cents,  madam."  "But," 
she  gasped,  "I  don't  want  so  many."  "Very  well," 
he  said,  "take  them  as  you  want  them." 

But  when  all  coins  had  disappeared  both  buyers  and 
sellers  were  often  at  their  wits'  end,  and  only  by  patience 
and  mutual  forbearance  could  ordinary  business  be 
transacted. 

This  want  of  coin  for  a  time  also  seriously  interfered 
with  travel  in  our  city.  Happy  were  those  who  had 
horses  and  carriages;  but  most  of  us  must  either  go 
afoot,  or  take  the  horse-cars.  Nobody  then  had  so  much 
as  dreamed  of  either  the  grip-car  or  trolley.  But  the 


Difficult  Currency  269 

vexed  question  was,  how  could  we  pay  our  fare?  Neither 
we  nor  the  conductor  had  any  change  and  none  was  to 
be  had.  But  necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention;  and 
necessity  for  a  considerable  period  drove  us  to  pay  our 
horse-car  fare  in  postage-stamps.  But  in  summer 
the  weather  in  St.  Louis  is  often  very  warm,  sometimes 
sissing  hot.  On  such  days  we  found  the  requisite  stamps 
glued  to  our  pocketbooks,  or,  if  folded  in  our  vest  pockets, 
melted  into  a  glutinous  mass.  How  we  then  worked  to 
separate  the  sticky  things  so  as  not  to  destroy  them! 
How  dilapidated  they  were  when  finally  disengaged 
from  their  adhesive  fellows!  In  getting  them  ready 
for  service,  some  lost  patience  and  expressed  themselves 
in  words  that  would  not  pass  muster  in  polite  society; 
while  others  differently  made  up  broke  out  into  laughter 
at  the  comicality  of  the  whole  thing. 

Soon  the  government  came  to  our  aid  by  issuing  in 
March,  1862,  " postage  currency."  Five,  ten,  twenty- 
five  and  fifty  cent  notes  abounded.  Postage  stamps 
as  currency  then  disappeared  from  the  marts  of  retail 
trade,  and  no  longer  pestered  street-car  passengers 
and  conductors.  These  tiny  notes  of  green  paper  were 
now  doing  the  usual  work  of  the  silver  coins  that  had 
gone  into  hiding.  And  a  year  later,  in  March,  1863, 
the  government,  still  seeking  to  help  the  people  in  that 
time  when  metallic  currency  was  no  longer  in  evidence, 
issued  paper  "  fractional  currency."  For  greater  con 
venience  notes  of  three  and  fifteen  cents  were  issued  in 
addition  to  those  of  the  "  postage  currency." 

These  small  notes  were  generally  called  shinplasters. 
How  fine  they  looked  as  they  came  crisp  and  clean  from 
Washington;  but  in  a  dusty,  smoky  city  like  ours, 
constantly  passing  from  hand  to  hand,  they  soon  became 
worn,  tattered,  almost  illegible,  and  unspeakably  nasty. 


270        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

But  few  seemed  to  care  for  this.  These  begrimed  notes 
met  our  necessities  in  barter;  and  as  to  any  incon 
venience  or  repulsiveness  that  was  accounted  for  and 
cheerfully  endured  as  a  part  of  the  war. 

The  government,  in  order  to  raise  money  to  meet  its 
necessities,  issued  seven  per  cent,  bonds  of  fifty  and  one 
hundred  dollars.  I  invested  five  hundred  dollars  in 
these  securities,  and  to  my  astonishment  was  reported 
in  the  papers  and  personally  congratulated  on  the  street 
as  having  done  a  patriotic  act.  I  had  not  looked  upon 
it  in  that  light.  But  the  incident  shows  that  very  many 
in  St.  Louis  then  thought  the  stability  of  our  Republic 
so  precarious  that  investing  money  in  her  bonds  at 
seven  per  cent,  was  regarded  as  an  act  of  patriotic  self- 
sacrifice.  That  is  a  sort  of  self-sacrifice  that  hosts  of 
men  would  be  glad  to  indulge  in  now. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

NOT  PEACE   BUT  THE   SWORD 

ON  the  19th  of  May,  1862,  Edward  Everett  came  to 
us  and  delivered  his  famous  oration  on  Washington. 
Very  few  in  our  city  had  ever  before  seen  him.  A  large 
audience  of  the  most  intelligent  and  cultured  among 
us  gathered  to  hear  him.  The  style  of  his  great  speech 
was  clear  and  finished;  his  elocution,  while  a  little 
stately,  was  nearly  faultless;  his  voice  was  agreeable 
and  reaching;  his  gestures  graceful  and  fitting,  but 
he  lacked  magnetism.  His  whole  effort  seemed  somewhat 
studied  and  a  bit  mechanical.  When  pronouncing  a 
given  phrase  he  stretched  out  his  arm  and  from  the 
palm  of  his  hand  extended  one  finger;  when  uttering 
another,  he  extended  two  fingers;  when  enunciating 
another,  three  fingers;  and  now  and  then  in  making 
a  full-arm  gesture  he  opened  the  whole  hand.  One  could 
not  help  thinking  that  before  appearing  in  public  he 
had  carefully  drilled  himself  before  a  looking-glass. 

His  audience  listened  intently,  but  was  not  much 
moved.  He  appealed  to  the  head  far  more  strongly 
than  to  the  heart.  Still  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  so  dis 
tinguished  an  orator  was  to  us  all  a  rare  treat. 

He  was  not  only  gathering  funds  to  complete  the 
Washington  monument  at  the  national  capital,  but  was 
still  endeavoring,  through  the  love  borne  to  Washington 
by  the  people  both  of  the  North  and  South,  to  unite  a 


272       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

divided  and  warring  nation.  Amid  the  clash  of  arms 
he  was  eloquently  pleading  for  peace.  His  purpose  was 
noble,  but  his  effort  was  futile.  The  ears  of  contending 
hosts,  seething  with  the  passions  of  war,  were  deaf  to 
all  appeals  for  peace.  One  might  as  well  have  under 
taken  to  put  out  the  fires  of  a  conflagration  by  a  speech, 
as  to  stay  the  bloody  national  conflict  then  raging  by 
an  oration  on  Washington. 

Fiercer  war  soon  followed  this  eloquent  pleading  for 
good  will  and  harmony.  When,  in  April,  General 
Halleck  departed  for  Corinth,  Mississippi,  he  left  General 
Schofield  in  command  of  the  greater  part  of  our  State, 
and  on  the  1st  of  June  he  put  him  in  temporary  com 
mand  of  the  entire  Department  of  Missouri.  General 
Schofield  now  sent  all  the  soldiers  that  could  possibly 
be  spared  from  St.  Louis  and  Missouri  to  swell  the  ranks 
of  the  army  in  Mississippi.  The  ever  watchful  enemy 
learned  from  spies  among  us  that  we  were  largely 
denuded  of  national  troops,  and  determined  to  put 
forth  one  more  vigorous  effort  to  secure  the  secession 
of  Missouri. 

Their  hostile  campaign  had  been  manifestly  skilfully 
planned.  Their  open  and  aggressive  movement  began 
in  the  latter  part  of  June.  All  at  once  guerrillas  swarmed 
in  every  part  of  the  State.  It  is  estimated  that  there 
were  full  ten  thousand  of  them.1  They  were  first  in 
northeast,  then  in  central  and  western,  Missouri;  now 
here,  now  there,  they  looted  and  burned  the  houses  of 
Union  men;  plundered  farms  and  villages;  tore  up 
railroad  tracks;  destroyed  bridges;  attacked  different 
detachments  of  militia;  were  by  turns  victorious  and 
defeated;  but  on  August  13th,  having  massed  their 
forces,  they  won  a  signal  victory  over  the  Union  troops 

*  w.  K.  S.  1,  Vol.  xxn,  P,  i,  p.  811. 


Not  Peace  but  the  Sword  273 

at  Independence,  and  two  days  later  ambushed  eight 
hundred  of  them  in  Jackson  County.  No  one  now  cares 
for  the  rebel  Colonels  Porter,  Quantrell,  Cobb,  Poin- 
dexter,  Coffee,  McBride  and  Hughes;  but  they  were 
then  the  chief  figures  in  these  scenes  of  desolation.  But 
when  they  were  at  the  height  of  their  success,  the  scale 
turned.  General  Blunt  from  Kansas  appeared  with  a 
small  but  well-appointed  army  and  drove  them  with 
their  ill-gotten  plunder  into  Arkansas. 

But  as  flies  when  brushed  away  at  once  return  again, 
so  they  appeared  again  in  September,  in  northeast 
Missouri,  and  so  effective  were  their  movements  that 
for  the  time  being  they  took  possession  of  that  part  of 
the  State,  except  posts  adequately  garrisoned  by  United 
States  troops. 

But  during  this  period  of  turmoil  General  Schofield 
was  wide  awake.  On  June  22d,  very  soon  after  these 
devastating  raids  began,  he  issued  an  order  in  which 
he  held  "  rebels  and  rebel  sympathizers  responsible  in 
their  property,  and,  if  need  be,  in  their  persons,  for 
damages  thereafter  committed  by  guerrillas  or  marauding 
parties."  And  while  this  had  no  immediate  effect  the 
order  was  not  in  vain.  It  was  the  precursor  of  energetic 
action.  On  the  22d  of  July,  Governor  Gamble  authorized 
the  general  to  organize  the  entire  militia  of  the  State, 
and  to  order  so  much  of  it  into  active  service,  as  he 
should  deem  necessary  to  put  down  all  marauders,  and 
to  defend  the  peaceable  citizens  of  the  commonwealth. 
On  the  same  day,  Schofield  commanded  the  immediate 
organization  of  the  militia  "for  the  purpose  of  exter 
minating  the  guerrillas  infesting  the  State."  This  diffi 
cult  work  was  pushed  with  great  rapidity  and  was 
soon  effected. 

In  September,  Missouri,  Kansas  and  Arkansas  were 


274        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

made  a  single  military  district,  and  over  it  was  put  in 
command  General  Curtis,  with  headquarters  at  St. 
Louis.  General  Schofield  now  took  the  field.  It  is 
important  that  each  army  have  a  name,  and  the  one 
that  he  led,  made  up  largely  of  State  militia,  was  quite 
appropriately  called  the  "Army  of  the  Frontier."  He 
moved  his  forces  wisely,  and  with  great  energy.  He 
vanquished  his  enemies  in  battle,  and  by  October  10th 
had  cleared  southwest  Missouri  of  them,  and  driven 
them  into  Arkansas,  which  was  a  refuge  for  rebels 
worsted  in  our  State.  By  the  close  of  the  month,  two 
able  Union  colonels  had  driven  all  rebel  guerrillas  from 
southeast  Missouri  into  the  same  haven.  So  ended  that 
memorable  guerrilla  uprising,  and  for  a  season  our  State 
was  quite  generally  free  from  the  turmoil  of  war. 

Now  we  in  St.  Louis  were  bound  up,  as  in  one  bundle, 
with  all  that  transpired  in  the  State.  We  learned  by 
manifold  experiences  that  there  was  a  depth  of  meaning 
in  the  phrase,  "  body  politic."  The  sensation  from  a 
stinging  blow  on  toe  or  finger  is  no  more  certainly  con 
veyed  to  the  brain,  than  were  the  distresses  in  the  State 
quickly  felt  in  our  city.  When  any  part  of  our  common 
wealth  suffered,  we  suffered.  So  we  realized  with  ever- 
increasing  clearness  that  our  destiny  was  one  with  that 
of  the  State  at  large.  Whatever  our  differences  might 
be,  together  we  should  stay  in  the  Union,  or  together 
go  out  of  it.  So  when  in  June  came  the  unexpected 
guerrilla  uprising,  that  seemed  simultaneously  to  burst 
out  of  the  earth  in  all  parts  of  the  commonwealth,  it 
put  all  St.  Louis  in  an  attitude  of  defence.  Most  of  the 
army  that  had  been  our  protection  were  in  the  field  far 
to  the  south.  For  many  months  we  had  had  an  organiza 
tion  of  Home  Guards,  and  now  with  fresh  zeal  they  gave 
themselves  to  military  drill.  Many  hitherto  supine 


Not  Peace  but  the  Sword  275 

joined  them.  One  regiment  was  made  up  of  old  men. 
To  see  them  in  uniform  and  under  arms  was  an  inspira 
tion.  Their  ranks  were  full.  They  marched  along  the 
streets  with  firm,  determined  tread,  their  gray  hair  and 
white  beards  speaking  eloquently  of  their  devotion  and 
patriotism. 

New  regiments  were  formed.  I  joined  one  of  them. 
We  were  drilled  on  the  ground  floor  of  a  defunct  brewery. 
There  we  marched  and  countermarched  and  went 
through  with  the  manual  of  arms,  so  that  if  the  city 
should  be  attacked  we  might  defend  it  with  some 
degree  of  efficiency. 

But  stirring  us  up  to  make  more  complete  preparation 
for  the  defence  of  the  city  was  not  the  sole  outcome  of 
the  guerrilla  uprising;  the  devastation  wrought  by  it 
in  the  State  sent  flying  to  us  for  succor  another  swarm 
of  refugees.  Fortunately,  many  of  them  could  care 
for  themselves,  still  a  large  contingent  were  dependent 
on  the  government  and  on  private  charity  for  the  neces 
saries  of  life. 

But  the  saddest  result  of  the  ruthless  guerrilla  cam 
paign  was  the  shutting  up  for  many  months  of  the 
common  schools  in  nearly  every  county  of  the  State. 
Such  a  calamity  was  measureless.  And  while  our  city 
schools  were  undisturbed,  we  keenly  sympathized  with 
our  fellow-citizens  in  the  State,  and  learned  anew  that, 
in  what  was  of  highest  worth,  we  were  kin. 


CHAPTER  XX 

CHARCOALS   AND   CLAYBANKS 

IN  our  hot  fight  for  Missouri  and  the  Union  we  unhap 
pily  split  up  into  factions.  We  not  only  contended 
against  secession  but  against  each  other.  And  the 
warring  factions  were  significantly  named  Charcoals 
and  Claybanks.  The  Charcoals  taken  as  a  whole  were 
uncompromising  radicals,  while  the  Claybanks  were  the 
conservatives.  Many  of  the  Claybanks  had  been  born 
and  educated  in  the  North,  while  some  of  the  blackest 
of  the  Charcoals  had  been  reared  in  the  midst  of  slavery. 
They  were  recent  converts  to  Unionism  and  gloried  in 
their  new-found  faith. 

What  gave  birth  to  these  party  names  no  one  can 
certainly  tell.  Apparently,  like  Topsy,  they  "just 
growed."  The  clay  of  Missouri  is  of  a  decidedly  neutral 
tint.  Perhaps  an  extremist,  indignant  at  a  conservative 
for  his  colorless  views,  called  him  a  clay  bank;  and 
since  the  name  was  descriptive,  fitting,  and  easily  under 
stood  by  Missourians,  it  stuck.  The  conservative,  stung 
by  the  epithet,  may  have  warmly  retorted,  "You  are  a 
charcoal."  And  that  name,  equally  descriptive  and 
fitting,  also  stuck.  At  all  events  each  faction  named  the 
other,  and  each  adopted  the  name  hostilely  given  and 
gloried  in  it.  And  for  many  months  these  names  bandied 
by  the  opposing  factions  played  an  important  part  in 
the  heated  controversies  of  our  State. 


Charcoals  and  Claybanks  277 

Both  Charcoals  and  Claybanks  were  loyal  to  the 
Federal  government.  Upon  the  main  issue,  the  pres 
ervation  of  the  Union,  they  agreed;  but  they  were  at 
swords'  points  upon  the  statement  of  the  problem  in 
hand  and  the  method  of  its  solution.  The  Claybanks 
contended  that  the  foremost  question  was  the  main 
tenance  of  the  Union.  They  were  ready  to  preserve  it 
either  with  or  without  slavery.  So  their  cry  was: 
"Let  us  first  save  the  Union,  and  afterwards  adjust  the 
matter  of  slavery." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  avowed  object  of  the  Charcoals 
was  to  save  the  Union  without  slavery;  and  perhaps 
they  were  unduly  impatient  with  those  who  would  save 
the  Union  with  slavery,  or  even  with  those  who  would 
save  the  Union  with  or  without  slavery.  But  they  were 
always  ready  to  give  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  was  in 
them.  They  said:  " Slavery  is  unquestionably  the 
cause  of  secession  and  of  this  bloody  war.  If  we  preserve 
the  Union  and  with  it  the  cause  of  its  present  disruption, 
then,  at  no  distant  day,  the  same  cause  will  rend  it 
again,  and  our  soil  will  be  drenched  with  the  blood 
of  our  children.  We  believe  the  doctrine  of  our  great 
President,  that  the  nation  cannot  continue  half  slave 
and  half  free.  We  therefore  give  ourselves  to  the 
extermination  of  the  fruitful  cause  of  all  our  present 
distress.  We  fight  and  pray  for  the  restoration  of  the 
Union,  but  of  the  Union  purged  of  human  bondage." 

These  opposing  factions  also  radically  disagreed  as 
to  the  method  of  dealing  with  the  disloyal,  or  those 
suspected  of  disloyalty.  The  Claybanks  contended 
that  in  dealing  with  rebels  or  rebel-sympathizers  their 
previous  surroundings  and  education  should  be  taken 
into  account,  and  large  allowance  should  be  made  for 
their  inevitable  prejudices;  that  many  slaveholders 


278        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

were  Unionists  and  ought  not  to  be  driven  into  hostility 
to  the  general  government  by  needlessly  severe  measures; 
that  every  day  that  they  remained  in  our  ranks  their 
Unionism  would  grow  stronger;  and  that  since  they  were 
with  us  on  the  main  question  of  Unionism,  all  other 
questions  should  be  permitted  to  sink  from  sight. 

But  the  shibboleth  of  the  Charcoals  was:  "  No 
quarter  to  slavery  or  secession."  They  maintained  that 
since  the  war  had  been  begun  by  secessionists,  in  a 
mixed  community  like  Missouri  it  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  find  out  who  were  really  for  the  Union 
and  who  were  against  it;  and  that  the  shortest  road  to 
such  knowledge  was  through  uncompromising  and 
drastic  measures;  and  that  in  the  long  run  such  a  course 
of  action,  rigidly  adhered  to,  would  be  productive  of  the 
least  suffering,  and  consequently  most  humane.  So 
they  urged  that  all  aiders  and  abetters  of  rebellion 
should  be  imprisoned  or  sent  beyond  the  lines  of  the 
Federal  army,  and  their  property  confiscated. 

But  all  Charcoals  were  not  alike;  some  were  much 
more  extreme  in  their  views  than  others.  At  times 
they  strenuously  opposed  one  another,  and  the  more 
moderate  among  them  held  the  more  radical  in  check. 
A  like  diversity  of  views  was  seen  among  Clay  banks. 
But  notwithstanding  the  variety  of  views  held  by  each 
of  these  factional  parties,  each,  as  we  have  seen,  unitedly 
and  bitterly  opposed  the  other,  both  in  reference  to  the 
aim  of  the  war  and  the  manner  of  conducting  it. 

When  our  military  commanders  came  to  us  one 
after  another,  they  were  beset,  not  to  say  besieged, 
by  the  Charcoals  and  Claybanks  in  reference  to  the 
conduct  of  the  war  in  Missouri.  Each  faction  tried  to 
forestall  the  other  by  getting  the  ear  of  the  new  general 
first,  and  telling  him  just  what  he  ought  to  do  in  order 


MAJ.-GEN.  JOH.N  t  .  FREMONT  MAJ.-GEN.  HENRY   W.  HAI.LECK 

MAJ.-GEN.  JOHN  McA.  SCHOFIELD  MAJ.-GEN.  WILLIAM  S.  ROSECKANS 

HON.  FRANK  P.  BLAIR,  JR. 


Charcoals  and  Claybanks  279 

to  achieve  success.  Each  was  absolutely  sure  that  only 
its  way  was  right.  Any  other  course  than  the  one 
suggested  would  lead  to  utter  disaster.  Each  party 
was  so  dead  in  earnest  that  when  its  views  were  dis 
carded  it  cursed  the  idiot  that  had  not  heeded  them. 
To  do  his  duty  intelligently  and  fearlessly  amid  this 
din  of  clashing  opinions,  a  commander  of  the  Depart 
ment  of  Missouri  needed  great  clearness  of  thought, 
coolness  of  disposition,  and  firmness  of  purpose.  He 
did  not  lie  on  a  bed  of  roses,  but  on  bumblebees'  nests. 

General  Fremont,  whose  career  among  us  I  have 
already  briefly  delineated,  gave  himself  too  much  into 
the  hands  of  the  radicals.  He  did  this  partly  because 
he  himself  was  naturally  radical,  and  partly  from  the 
influence  of  his  environment.  Our  German  fellow- 
citizens,  whose  views  were  extreme,  at  the  start  got  the 
ear  of  the  general  and  held  it  to  the  last.  Mr.  Blair, 
the  leader  of  the  Union  men  of  St.  Louis,  although  at 
first  very  radical,  soon  drew  away  from  the  extremists, 
and  became  a  conservative.  It  was  through  his  great 
personal  influence  that  Fremont  had  been  put  over 
the  Department  of  the  West,  and  by  that  same  influence 
he  had  been  removed  from  his  command.  Among 
other  reasons  urged  as  making  his  removal  necessary 
was  his  radicalism,  that  had  offensively  manifested 
itself  when  he  exceeded  his  authority  in  manumitting 
slaves. 

His  successor  in  command  was  quite  as  radical  as 
he;  but  Halleck  courted  information.  He  listened 
attentively  to  both  Charcoals  and  Claybanks.  Having 
gotten  the  views  of  both  factions,  he  discreetly  kept  his 
own  counsels.  He  was  independent  and  fearless.  His 
measures  were  often  startlingly  radical;  but  his  blows, 
which  fell  hard  and  fast,  were  mainly  directed  against 


280        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

rebels,  rebel-sympathizers,  bushwhackers,  bridge-burners 
and  spies.  He  did,  to  be  sure,  as  we  have  seen,  deliver 
a  batch  of  slaves  from  durance  vile  and  put  them  on  the 
road  to  freedom;  but  in  doing  it  he  was  very  careful 
to  keep  strictly  within  the  limits  of  his  authority.  While 
he  did  not  fully  please  any  faction,  his  administration 
taken  as  a  whole  was  far  more  satisfactory  to  the  Char 
coals  than  to  the  Clay  banks. 

General  Samuel  R.  Curtis,  Halleck's  successor,  leaned 
decidedly  to  the  Charcoals;  in  fact  he  was  a  Charcoal 
himself.  He  and  they  evidently  were  one  in  thought 
and  sentiment.  He  carried  out  so  far  as  he  was  able 
their  extreme  views.  Without  possessing  Halleck's 
discretion,  he  continued  the  policy  of  assessing  wealthy 
secessionists.  But  this  policy  had  gradually  taken  on 
new  features.  WThat  began  in  assessments  had  unfolded 
into  confiscation.  During  the  last  month  of  his  adminis 
tration,  General  Curtis  sent  to  the  South,  beyond  the 
lines  of  the  Union  army,  not  a  few  persons  of  means. 
Those  having  families  were  permitted  to  take  with 
them  a  thousand  dollars;  those  without  families  two 
hundred  dollars  each.  The  rest  of  their  property  was 
confiscated  and  used  to  meet  the  necessities  of  sick 
and  wounded  soldiers. 

While  in  some  cases  this  mode  of  procedure  was 
unquestionably  justifiable,  still  it  was  a  policy  specially 
liable  to  abuse.  It  was  deprecated  by  many  of  the 
staunchest  Union  men.  They  maintained  that  in  a 
heterogeneous  community  like  ours,  where  there  was 
every  kind  and  shade  of  political  opinion,  it  could  hardly 
fail  to  subject  some  good  men  to  the  rankest  injustice; 
that  those  who  did  not  openly  participate  in  rebellion, 
whatever  might  be  their  political  views  or  sympathies, 
should  be  let  alone.  There  were  among  us  many  good 


Charcoals  and  Claybanks  281 

men  who  were  born  and  educated  in  the  South,  and 
while  opposed  to  the  folly  of  secession,  they  nevertheless 
naturally  sympathized  with  their  kith  and  kin;  and 
the  drastic  policy  of  the  extreme  radicals  and  of  their 
Charcoal  general  greatly  disturbed  and  disheartened 
them. 

Take  this  as  a  representative  case.  There  was  in 
St.  Louis  a  prominent  Presbyterian  minister  of  Southern 
sympathies.  He  had  been  born  and  bred  in  the  midst 
of  slavery.  He  hardly  knew  where  he  stood  politically. 
He  swung  uncertainly  between  Unionism  and  seces- 
sionism.  Like  all  such  irresolute,  hesitating  mortals, 
he  got  into  difficulty.  The  staunch  Union  men  of  his 
church  secured  his  removal  from  his  pulpit  by  ecclesias 
tical  authority;  and  he  now  stood  in  fear  lest  the  hand 
of  military  power  might  be  laid  upon  him.  So  he  deter 
mined  to  leave  the  State.  One  of  his  familiar  acquaint 
ances  found  him  one  morning  boxing  up  his  household 
goods,  on  the  sidewalk  before  his  door,  and  in  surprise 
exclaimed:  "  Doctor,  what's  up  now?"  He  replied: 
"  I  am  going  to  get  out  of  this  State  of  Misery; 1  I  can 
endure  it  no  longer."  "  Where  are  you  going?  "  asked 
his  friend.  He  answered,  "I  am  going  to  Kentucky." 
"  Why,"  said  his  neighbor,  "that  is  a  worse  State  than 
this."  "Then,"  said  the  doctor,  "it  must  be  a  State 
of  Despair." 

The  extreme  policy  of  General  Curtis  soon  brought 
him  into  collision  with  our  conservative,  provisional 
Governor.  The  sparks  flew.  The  Charcoals  and  Clay- 
banks  put  on  fresh  war-paint.  The  one  upheld  the 
general  and  his  radical  policy;  the  other  the  Governor 
and  his  more  moderate  policy.  While  both  parties  were 
for  the  Union,  they  denounced  each  other  in  the  hottest 

1  At  that  time  Missouri  was  called  a  State  of  Misery. 


282        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

terms.  If  we  had  believed  what  both  factions  declared, 
we  should  have  been  forced  to  conclude  that  there  was 
scarcely  a  decent  man  among  all  the  Unionists  in  the 
State.  Each  party  again  and  again  appealed  to  the 
President  for  his  support,  but  of  course  he  could  not 
side  with  either.  At  last,  worn  out  by  this  incessant 
strife,  in  May,  1863,  he  removed  General  Curtis  from  his 
command  and  put  General  Schofield  in  his  place. 

On  May  24th,  the  new  commander  began  his  work. 
He  was  not  a  stranger  to  us.  Before  the  war  he  had  been 
for  several  months  professor  of  physics  in  Washington 
University,  which  adorned  our  city,  and  was  highly 
esteemed  by  all  who  knew  him.  Nor  was  he  unfamiliar 
with  this  military  department,  having  been  put  in  com 
mand  of  it  for  a  time  by  General  Halleck.  During  his 
brief  administration  at  that  time  he  did  such  thorough 
and  heroic  work  that  we  all  expected  of  him  wise, 
liberal,  patriotic  service,  and  were  not  disappointed. 

Three  days  after  he  had  relieved  General  Curtis,  the 
President  wrote  him  a  letter,  which  is  so  quaint  and 
so  packed  with  good  sense  that  we  feel  impelled  to 
reproduce  it.  It  tersely  portrays  the  difficult  task 
that  confronted  him. 

"  EXECUTIVE  MANSION,  WASHINGTON, 

"  May  27,  1863. 
"  GENERAL  J.  M.  SCHOFIELD: 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR:  —  Having  relieved  General  Curtis  and 
assigned  you  to  the  command  of  the  Department  of 
Missouri,  I  think  it  may  be  of  some  advantage  for  me 
to  state  to  you  why  I  did  it.  I  did  not  relieve  General 
Curtis  because  of  any  full  conviction  that  he  had  done 
wrong  by  commission  or  omission.  I  did  it  because 
of  a  conviction  in  my  mind  that  the  Union  men  of 


Charcoals  and  Clay  banks  283 

Missouri,  constituting,  when  united,  a  vast  majority 
of  the  whole  people,  have  entered  into  a  pestilent  fac 
tional  quarrel  among  themselves  —  General  Curtis, 
perhaps  not  from  choice,  being  the  head  of  one  faction, 
and  Governor  Gamble  that  of  the  other.  After  months 
of  labor  to  reconcile  the  difficulty,  it  seemed  to  grow 
worse  and  worse,  until  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  break  it  up 
somehow;  and  as  I  could  not  remove  Governor  Gamble, 
I  had  to  remove  General  Curtis.  Now  that  you  are  in 
the  position,  I  wish  you  to  undo  nothing  merely  because 
General  Curtis  or  Governor  Gamble  did  it,  but  to  exercise 
your  own  judgment  and  do  right  for  the  public  interest. 
Let  your  military  measures  be  strong  enough  to  repel 
the  invader  and  keep  the  peace,  and  not  so  strong  as  to 
unnecessarily  harass  and  persecute  the  people.  It  is 
a  difficult  role,  and  so  much  greater  will  be  the  honor 
if  you  perform  it  well.  If  both  factions,  or  neither, 
shall  abuse  you,  you  will  probably  be  about  right. 
Beware  of  being  assailed  by  one  and  praised  by  the 
other. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  A.  LINCOLN." 

So  the  general  was  to  begin  his  duties  with  a  clean 
slate.  But  no  sooner  had  he  taken  firmly  hold  of  his 
work  than  the  extreme  Charcoals  began  to  oppose  him 
and  Governor  Gamble.  Happily  he  and  the  Governor 
agreed  in  policy  and  were  united  in  action. 

An  act  of  the  Governor  first  elicited  the  wrath  of  the 
extremists.  The  policy  of  assessing  well-to-do  dis- 
unionists,  begun  in  St.  Louis,  had  spread  itself  over  the 
whole  State.  The  dragons'  teeth  sown  by  Halleck  were 
producing  an  abundant  harvest.  Just  at  this  time  the 
Provost-marshal  general  was  engaged  in  gathering 


284        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

assessments  in  different  parts  of  our  commonwealth. 
Opposed  as  the  Governor  was  to  this  arbitrary  method 
of  dealing  with  supposed  disloyalty,  he  commanded  the 
enrolled  militia,  that  was  under  his  immediate  control, 
not  to  aid  the  Marshal  in  collecting  the  assessments  that 
he  had  made.  For  this,  the  Charcoals  poured  the  vials 
of  their  wrath  upon  his  head. 

But  the  Federal  commander  did  not  long  escape  their 
vituperation.  That  border  ruffian,  Quantrell,  and  his 
lawless  gang,  made  a  raid  into  Kansas,  looted  Lawrence 
and  murdered  many  of  its  inhabitants.  For  this  das 
tardly  outrage  the  extreme  radicals  unreasonably  blamed 
General  Schofield.  And  when  General  Lane  of  Kansas 
and  the  men  following  his  lead  wished  to  invade  Missouri 
in  order  to  make  reprisals,  Schofield,  in  the  interest  of 
peace  and  good  order,  would  not  permit  it.  For  this 
the  extreme  Charcoals  bitterly  denounced  him,  and 
even  called  in  question  his  loyalty.  They  determined 
to  down  him.  In  their  newspapers  they  sharply  criticized 
him  and  his  methods.  In  return  he  fulminated  an  order 
against  the  immoderate  and  lawless  press,  threatening 
to  throttle  it.  This  was  an  unwise  act  on  his  part.  It 
encouraged  them  in  their  opposition.  They  had  not 
toiled  in  vain.  At  least  they  had  made  the  lion  roar. 
They  went  to  reprehensible  extremes.  The  general 
believed  that  they  tampered  with  some  of  the  enrolled 
militia,  that  had  been  put  by  the  Governor  under  his 
command.  He  sent  a  regiment  of  militia  to  New 
Madrid  to  relieve  the  25th  Missouri,  and  while  on 
board  the  steamboat,  going  down  the  Mississippi,  they 
mutinied,  landed,  and  went  to  their  homes.  So  if  the 
general's  information  was  not  at  fault,  faction  began 
to  blossom  into  treason. 

As  late  as  October  (1863)  the  radicals  sent  a  com- 


Charcoals  and  Claybanks  285 

munication  to  the  War  Department  complaining  that 
General  Schofield  had  enrolled  rebels  in  the  militia  of 
northwest  Missouri,  and  disarmed  Unionists.  The 
general,  replying  to  this  charge,  declared  that  he  had 
enrolled  "  twice  as  many  former  rebels "  as  were 
named  by  his  accusers,  "  amounting  to  from  five  to 
ten  per  cent,  of  the  whole "  militia  organization 
of  that  part  of  the  State,  and  that  he  was  glad  to 
make  a  repentant  rebel  of  "more  service  to  the  govern 
ment  than  a  man  who  never  had  any  political  sins  to 
repent  of."  He  also  felt  great  satisfaction  in  putting 
men  of  that  class  to  "guard  the  property  of  their  more 
loyal  neighbors."  1  So  that  the  act  of  which  his  enemies 
complained  was  evidently  both  wise  and  patriotic. 

At  last  the  extremists  sent  a  large  delegation  to  Wash 
ington  to  lay  the  situation  in  Missouri,  as  they  appre 
hended  it,  before  the  President,  and  to  urge  him  to 
remove  General  Schofield  and  appoint  in  his  place 
General  Butler.  Mr.  Lincoln  heard  them  patiently, 
and  on  the  following  day  replied  to  them  in  a  strong, 
lucid  paper.  With  marvellous  insight  he  analyzed  the 
parties  in  our  State,  and  pointed  out  their  attitude 
towards  each  other,  and  towards  both  the  State  and 
national  government.  He  also  heartily  sustained 
General  Schofield.  The  members  of  the  delegation  were 
of  course  disappointed,  but  returned  wiser  than  when 
they  went.  They  had  surveyed  at  a  distance  the 
factional  strife  of  their  State.  The  perspective  gave 
them  a  juster  notion  of  its  relative  importance.  They 
had  listened  to  the  luminous  analysis  of  it  all  by  the 
clear-headed  President.  They  saw  new  light.  From 
that  day  factional  strife  began  to  subside.  It  lingered, 
but  it  was  less  virulent.  Little  by  little  reason  resumed 

1  Forty-Six  Years  in  the  Army,  pp.  104-106. 


286        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

its  sway,  and  a  larger  charity  found  place  in  the  minds 
of  those  holding  divergent  views. 

But  the  view  of  these  radicals  which  General  Schofield 
presents  in  Chapter  V  of  his  "  Forty-Six  Years  in  the 
Army,"  seems  to  me  to  be  somewhat  misleading.  Ad 
mitting,  as  he  claims,  that  some  of  them  plotted  to 
overthrow  the  provisional  State  government,  and  to 
change  the  policy  of  the  national  administration,  and 
instigated  to  open  mutiny  a  regiment  of  enrolled  militia, 
his  declaration  that  "they  are  loyal  only  to  their 
radical  theories,  and  so  radical  that  they  cannot  pos 
sibly  be  loyal  to  the  government,"  certainly  was  not 
true  of  the  great  mass  of  them.  While  some  of  them,  in 
their  zeal  for  the  extinction  of  slavery  and  secession, 
were  led  into  the  advocacy  of  condemnable  policies, 
the  loyalty  of  most  of  them  was  spotless.  Many  who 
clamored  for  the  general's  removal  did  so  patriotically, 
believing  that  the  highest  interests  of  Missouri  demanded 
it.  I  believed  then,  as  I  do  now,  that  they  were  in 
error,  but  they  were  true  as  steel  both  to  their  honest 
convictions  and,  as  they  saw  it,  to  their  country.  And 
with  the  unswerving  conviction  that  in  the  conflict 
then  raging  slavery  would  perish,  they  fought  right  on. 
Never  were  men  more  intensely  in  earnest.  They  won 
at  last,  as  we  shall  see.  Not  the  Claybank,  but  the 
Charcoal  triumphed,  and  in  that  triumph  both  were 
equally  blessed.  And  both  contributed  to  the  victory; 
the  intensity  of  the  Charcoal  made  it  possible;  the 
conservatism  of  the  Claybank  made  it  reasonable  and 
most  largely  beneficent.  But  General  Schofield  came 
near  to  achieving  the  position  between  the  factions 
that  the  President  craved  for  him.  While  on  the  whole 
he  was  more  satisfactory  to  the  Claybanks  than  to  the 
Charcoals,  he  was  not  wholly  satisfactory  to  either. 


Charcoals  and  Claybanks  287 

Some  of  the  Claybanks  were  bitterly  opposed  to  his 
policy  of  enlisting  negro  troops.  And  when  some  loyal 
slaveholders  found  their  chattels  wearing  the  uniform 
of  United  States  soldiers,  and  claimed  their  property, 
they  were  both  amazed  and  wrathful  when  informed  by 
the  general  that,  notwithstanding  their  loyalty,  their 
slaves  by  their  act  of  enlistment  had  been  made  free. 
So  it  came  to  pass  that  some  Claybanks  and  some 
Charcoals  approved  him,  some  Claybanks  and  some 
Charcoals,  for  totally  different  reasons,  sharply  con 
demned  him.  In  a  most  delicate  and  difficult  position, 
he  tactfully  did  what  he  believed  to  be  right,  and  won 
the  approval  of  the  best  elements  in  both  of  the  warring 
factions. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HOMES  AND  HOSPITALS1 

WHEN,  in  1861,  the  war  broke  out  in  Missouri,  and 
the  battles  of  Boonville,  Carthage,  Dug  Spring  and 
Wilson's  Creek  were  fought,  and  collisions  and  skir 
mishes  multiplied  throughout  the  State,  the  demand  for 
greater  hospital  accommodations  at  St.  Louis  became 
imperative.  The  New  House  of  Refuge  Hospital,  two 
miles  south  of  the  city,  proved  to  be  altogether  inade 
quate;  and  when  all  the  wards  of  the  St.  Louis  Hospital, 
kept  by  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  of  the  City  Hospital 
had  been  filled,  still  more  room  was  at  once  required. 

To  meet  this  urgent  necessity  something  must  be 
done  immediately.  In  our  straits  we  appealed  to  General 
Fremont,  who  promptly  came  to  our  aid,2  and,  on 
September  5th,  issued  an  order,  authorizing  the  Western 
Sanitary  Commission,  under  the  medical  director  of 
the  army,  to  select,  fit  up,  and  furnish  suitable  buildings 
for  "Army  and  Brigade  Hospitals;"  to  choose  and 
appoint,  under  the  authority  of  Miss  Dorothea  L.  Dix, 
general  superintendent  of  the  nurses  of  military  hos 
pitals  in  the  United  States,  female  nurses;  to  cooperate 
with  the  surgeons  of  the  army  in  providing  male  nurses; 
to  visit  the  various  military  camps,  consult  with  the 

1  In  addition  to  my  own  observations,  for  the  facts  set  forth  in  this 
chapter  I  am  largely  indebted  to  "The  Western   Sanitary  Commis 
sion  :    A  Sketch ." 

2  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  Ill,  D.  of  E.,  p.  26. 


Homes  and  Hospitals  289 

commanding  officers  in  reference  to  the  sanitary  con 
dition  of  the  troops,  and  aid  them  in  providing  the 
best  means  for  preventing  sickness,  such  as  proper 
drainage,  warm  clothing  and  wholesome  food.  More 
over  the  Commission  was  enjoined  to  use  every  available 
means  for  the  promotion  of  the  social  and  moral  welfare 
of  the  soldiers.  To  satisfy  the  varied  wants  of  those  in 
camps  and  hospitals,  the  Commission  was  directed  to 
procure  from  the  people  at  large  such  supplies  as  they 
would  freely  contribute  to  supplement  those  furnished 
by  the  government.  But  all  this  must  be  done  in  full 
and  hearty  cooperation  with  the  regular  medical  staff 
of  the  army,  some  members  of  which  were  jealous  of 
their  honors  and  at  times  foolishly  sensitive  to  inno 
vations. 

Finally,  the  general's  order  declared  that  "  This 
Sanitary  Commission  will,  for  the  present,  consist  of 
James  E.  Yeatman,  Esq.;  C.  S.  Greely,  Esq.;  J.  B. 
Johnson,  M.  D.;  George  Partridge,  Esq.;  and  Rev. 
William  G.  Eliot,  D.  D."  Two  of  these  were  broad- 
minded,  enterprising  merchants;  one  was  a  physician 
of  high  standing;  while  Mr.  Yeatman  was  a  retired 
Tennessee  planter.  He  had  been  a  slaveholder;  but, 
called  to  go  down  the  Mississippi  River  on  business,  he 
received  from  what  he  saw  during  his  trip  such  an 
impression  of  the  enormity  of  slavery,  that,  when  he 
returned,  he  manumitted  his  slaves,  sold  his  plantation, 
and  thereafter  made  St.  Louis  his  home.  He  was  a  rare 
man.  He  was  eminently  just.  He  saw  clearly  the 
fundamental  elements  of  every  problem  presented  to 
the  Commission  for  solution.  He  had  large  adminis 
trative  ability,  a  sharp  eye  for  details,  and,  to  crown 
all,  a  great  heart.  Few  men  in  the  nation  did  more 
than  he  to  bring  the  war  to  a  successful  issue. 


290       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Dr.  Eliot,  whose  name  stands  last  on  this  roll  of 
honor,  was  the  pastor  of  the  only  Unitarian  church  in 
our  city.  By  long  and  efficient  ministerial  service  he 
had  endeared  himself  to  all  the  people.  His  name  in 
St.  Louis  was  a  household  word.  But  he  was  as  noted 
for  his  skill  and  efficiency  in  inaugurating  and  success 
fully  conducting  large  public  enterprises,  as  for  his 
wise  and  multifarious  pastoral  labors.  He  was  the 
founder  of  Washington  University  and  of  Mary  Insti 
tute,  and  it  was  through  his  personal  efforts  that  these 
institutions,  an  ornament  to  our  city,  were  built  up.  In 
fact  every  beneficent  enterprise  in  St.  Louis  felt  the 
stimulating  touch  of  his  hand  and  was  indebted  to  him 
for  his  thoughtful  guidance.  Among  the  ablest  pastors 
of  our  city,  he  was  unquestionably  best  equipped  for 
membership  in  this  all-important  Sanitary  Commission. 

The  Commission,  thus  organized  and  launched,  at 
once  began  its  labors.  It  rented  a  five-story  building 
at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and  Chestnut  Streets,  and  speedily 
fitted  it  up  for  hospital  service.  It  was  named  the 
"  City  General  Hospital."  On  September  10th,  it 
was  thrown  open  for  the  reception  of  patients.  A  throng 
of  sick  and  wounded  men,  who  had  been  anxiously 
waiting  for  accommodation  and  succor,  quickly  filled 
all  its  rooms. 

In  this  building  the  Sanitary  Commission  made  its 
headquarters.  Mr.  Yeatman  was  chosen  president  and 
gave  his  whole  time  to  his  duties,  while  the  other  mem 
bers  of  the  Commission  met  with  him  every  day,  except 
Sunday,  for  consultation.  For  this  incessant,  exacting 
toil  no  one  of  them  received  any  moneyed  compensation. 
Without  a  thought  of  personal  gain  they  worked  unre 
mittingly  and  cheerfully  for  their  country.  The  only 
motive  that  impelled  them  was  a  glowing,  self-sacrificing 


Homes  and  Hospitals  291 

patriotism.  For  a  time,  they  employed  only  one  man, 
and  he  acted  as  storekeeper,  porter  and  clerk  for  thirty 
dollars  a  month.  And  this  gratuitous,  arduous  service, 
beset  at  times  with  swarms  of  perplexities,  was  continued 
to  the  close  of  the  war. 

The  sick  and  wounded  of  the  army  multiplied  so 
rapidly,  and  the  demand  for  medical  aid  became  so 
insistent,  that  within  two  months  after  the  opening  of 
the  first  hospital,  the  Commission,  with  almost  incredible 
energy,  had  added  five  more  and  all  were  filled  to  over 
flowing. 

On  April  6-7,  1862,  the  battle  of  Pittsburg  Landing, 
or  Shiloh,  was  fought.  On  that  field  of  carnage,  one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  thirty-five  Union  soldiers 
were  killed  outright,  and  seven  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  eighty-two  were  wounded.  The  latter  were  sent 
up  to  St.  Louis  by  boat-loads.  They  were  carried  on 
stretchers  up  through  our  streets  to  the  hospitals.  The 
business  men,  merchants,  clerks,  manufacturers,  bankers 
and  artisans  of  various  crafts  helped  bear  along  these 
ghastly  burdens.  Young  men,  the  flower  of  the  north 
western  States,  had  been  maimed,  crippled,  shot  to  pieces 
in  defence  of  the  Union.  We  were  horror-stricken,  and 
with  a  depth  of  emotion  which  we  had  not  before  felt, 
pledged  to  the  defence  of  our  government  "our  lives, 
our  fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor." 

We  now  found  that  we  had  not  sufficient  room  for 
these  suffering  heroes.  Two  large  halls  were  immediately 
secured,  transformed  into  hospitals,  filled  with  the 
wounded,  and  furnished  with  sanitary  stores,  nurses 
and  physicians.  At  last  we  had  fifteen  well-appointed 
hospitals  in  and  around  our  city,  with  accommodation 
for  six  thousand  patients.  The  largest  was  at  Jefferson 
Barracks,  which,  within  two  years,  received  and  treated 


292        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

more  than  eleven  thousand  sick  and  wounded  soldiers. 
So  out  of  necessity  grew  with  ever  accelerated  pace  this 
great  work  of  beneficence. 

But  the  exigencies  of  the  times  called  into  being 
hospitals  not  only  for  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  but 
also  for  refugees ;  in  fact,  for  any,  who,  on  account  of 
the  war,  were  rendered  helpless.  And  in  order  by 
association  of  ideas  to  give  the  greatest  possible  cheer 
to  those  congregated  in  them,  they  were  called  Homes. 
This  name  was  full  of  tender  suggestion,  especially  to 
all  of  English  or  Scandinavian  blood. 

The  first  Home  established  was  for  soldiers.  It  was 
on  Walnut  Street.  It  was  opened  in  March,  1862.  It 
was  designated  as  a  temporary  rest  for  troops  that  had 
been  discharged  or  furloughed.  Since  many  of  them 
had  little  or  no  money  they  were  here  gratuitously 
furnished  with  food  and  lodging.  Those  who  were  weak 
from  sickness  or  wounds  received  the  ministrations  of 
skilful  physicians  and  experienced  nurses.  They  were 
also  protected  against  sharpers,  who,  under  the  guise  of 
friendship,  would  collect  what  little  money  might  be 
due  these  war-worn  heroes,  and  put  it  in  their  own 
pockets.  Moreover,  their  intellectual,  moral  and 
spiritual  wants  were  met  in  the  Home.  A  reading-room 
was  put  into  it.  Many  daily  papers  and  religious 
journals  came  regularly  to  its  table,  while  hundreds  of 
volumes  of  good  books  placed  upon  its  shelves  allured 
the  weary  or  convalescing  soldiers  to  read. 

No  one  can  measure  the  good  done  through  the  mani 
fold  appliances  of  that  Home.  During  the  war  over 
seventy  thousand  soldiers  enjoyed  its  hospitality. 
There  they  were  helped  over  rough  places;  their  diffi 
culties  that  seemed  to  them  like  mountains  vanished; 
they  were  nursed  into  strength  and  took  on  new  heart 


Homes  and  Hospitals  293 

and  hope;  became  in  fact  new  men,  arid  very  many  of 
them  went  back  into  the  ranks,  courageously  to  fight  to 
the  finish  the  battle  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union. 
Early  in  1862  the  Sanitary  Commission  also  opened 
a  Home  on  Elm  Street,  for  refugees,  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken  in  a  previous  chapter;  and  still  another 
in  1863.  These  Homes  were  conducted  on  the  same 
general  principles  as  the  Home  for  soldiers.  A  man  of 
great  excellence  of  character,  Mr.  Cavender,  out  of  his 
deep  sympathy  for  the  forlorn  refugees,  voluntarily 
gave  his  entire  time  to  the  care  of  them.  Thus  the 
demand  for  loving,  self-sacrificing  toil  for  others  always 
seemed  to  be  met  by  some  unselfish  soul  like  his. 
-.  But  the  care  of  the  needy  among  us  was  not  for  a 
moment  left  to  chance  volunteers.  Not  long  after  the 
Commission  began  its  work,  the  Ladies  Union  Aid 
Society  was  formed.  It  was  made  up  of  the  best  and 
most  efficient  women  of  the  city.  Social  distinctions 
were  for  the  time  being  obliterated.  The  hearts  of 
the  rich  and  the  poor  were  united  by  the  common 
danger  and  by  a  common  love  of  country.  Any  one 
who  could  do  some  useful  service  to  suffering  soldiers 
was  welcomed  by  all.  This  society  enlisted  women, 
in  different  parts  of  the  city,  who  met  regularly  in 
groups  to  prepare  such  comforts  as  were  needed  by  our 
brave  boys  both  in  camp  and  hospital.  It  had  its 
ramifications  in  all  the  loyal  churches.  Without  a 
thought  of  denominational  distinctions,  patriotic  women 
of  all  creeds  or  of  no  creed  met  to  work  for  the  armed 
defenders  of  the  Union.  They  freely  donated  the 
material  that  they  prepared  for  use.  They  scraped  lint, 
knit  socks,  made  under-garments,  furnished  beds  for 
the  sick  in  hospitals,  and  secured  aid  and  employment 
for  the  wives  of  soldiers. 


294        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

Out  from  the  ranks  of  these  women  came  many  of 
our  most  efficient  hospital  nurses.  Miss  Dix,  by  whom, 
or  by  some  deputy  of  hers,  all  nurses  must  be  approved, 
had  appointed  as  her  agent  in  St.  Louis,  Mr.  Yeatman, 
president  of  the  Sanitary  Commission.  On  account  of 
his  position  he  had  unusual  opportunities  for  observing 
among  volunteer  helpers  those  best  qualified  for  stated 
and  official  service,  and  his  selections  were  eminently 
wise. 

No  one  could  be  a  candidate  for  this  honor  unless  she 
was  between  twenty-five  and  fifty  years  old,  had  good 
health,  and  was  cheerful  in  disposition,  without  frivolity. 
And  her  official  entrance  upon  the  work  of  nursing 
hardly  robbed  her  of  the  blessing  of  gratuitous  patriotic 
service,  since  the  compensation  was  twelve  dollars  a 
month  and  her  keep.  How  does  that  strike  a  profes 
sional  nurse  of  to-day? 

But  the  spirit  of  helpfulness  was  not  confined  to 
special  organizations;  it  seemed  quite  universal.  Sepa 
rate  households  planned  and  carried  out  benevolent 
enterprises  to  aid  soldiers  in  the  camps  around  the 
city.  These  soldiers  were  generally  intelligent;  many 
of  them  were  from  our  academies  and  colleges.  They 
were  always  glad  to  get  good  papers  and  magazines. 
In  many  households  all  such  reading  matter  was  care 
fully  saved  for  them.  At  times  when  regiments  of 
soldiers  marched  by  our  doors  it  was  handed  to  them. 
They  received  it  with  avidity  and  often  answered  the 
attention  bestowed  upon  them  with  hearty  cheers. 

But  the  distinctive  classes  of  the  needy  gave  rise  to 
specialization  on  their  behalf.  Some  expended  their 
energies  in  helping  white  refugees,  others  in  caring  for 
the  freedmen;  the  efforts  of  the  latter  resulted  in  the 
organization  of  the  Freedmen's  Relief  Society,  in  1863. 


Homes  and  Hospitals  295 

But  all  lines  of  special  effort  were  generously  aided  by 
the  Sanitary  Commission.  It  was  the  central,  controlling 
energy,  and  directed  by  it,  the  multiplied  benevolent 
agencies  worked  in  perfect  harmony.  They  simply 
divided  the  labor  that  it  might  be  more  thoroughly 
done.  The  work  was  one,  and  behind  all  its  multifarious 
details  there  was  one  spirit  and  one  purpose. 

But,  however  tempting  the  subject  may  be,  I  must 
not  undertake  to  write  even  an  outline  history  of  the 
Western  Sanitary  Commission.  This  would  require  a 
volume,  and  it  would  embrace  much  that  does  not 
distinctively  belong  to  our  city.  And  yet  we  all  bore 
some  humble  part  in  its  magnificent  work,  and  that  work 
was  all  wrought  before  our  eyes.  But  the  country  at 
large  contributed  to  it,  and  the  Federal  government 
supported  it  with  a  liberal  hand.  In  illustration  of  this 
take  a  single  example.  In  opening  the  Home  for  the 
Refugees,  the  Commission  expended  three  thousand 
dollars,  the  general  government  two  thousand  dollars. 
This  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  whole.  All  the  generals 
of  the  Western  Department  heartily  sustained  it.  So 
did  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  also  Grant  and  Sherman. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  giving  a  hint  of  the  source, 
nature,  and  extent  of  the  contributions,  which  the 
people  poured  out  to  help  the  Commission  in  its  benevo 
lent  and  patriotic  work.  Donations  came  from  all  the 
Northern  States,  especially,  as  might  have  been  antici 
pated,  from  Michigan  and  the  Northwest;  but  Phila 
delphia,  New  York,  Providence  and  Boston  were 
specially  lavish  in  their  gifts.  They  contributed  much 
money,  but  also  sent  in  boxes  vast  quantities  of  blankets, 
and  bed-linen,  of  underwear  and  all  sorts  of  comforts 
for  camps  and  hospitals.  By  January,  1864,  more  than 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  cash  had  been  received, 


296        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

of  which  St.  Louis  and  Missouri  had  donated  more  than 
half;  while  the  distant  States  of  California  and  Massa 
chusetts  had  each  contributed  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
But  one  million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  worth  of 
sanitary  supplies  and  hospital  comforts  had  come  to 
hand.  From  first  to  last  the  Commission  received  and 
distributed  three  million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars 
worth  of  useful  articles,  and  almost  a  million  of  money, 
gladly  given  by  the  people.  Among  the  cities  of  the 
Republic,  the  largest  givers  were  Boston  and  St.  Louis. 

But  if  possible,  let  us  get  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the 
manner  in  which  these  liberal  donations  were  used. 
We  have  already  seen  how  they  made  possible 
the  founding  and  equipment  of  the  various  hospitals 
and  Homes  at  St.  Louis.  But  great  as  the  work  was 
there,  it  was  still  greater  in  the  regions  beyond.  As 
early  as  October,  1861,  the  Sanitary  Commission,  under 
an  order  from  General  Fremont,  fitted  up  two  hospital 
cars,  on  the  Pacific  Railroad,  with  berths,  nurses  and  all 
necessary  arrangements  for  cooking.  So  far  as  I  can 
discover,  these  were  the  first  hospital  cars  in  the  United 
States,  and  they  proved  to  be  exceedingly  useful. 

After  the  battle  of  Fort  Donelson,  in  February, 
1862,  the  Commission,  striking  hands  with  the  medical 
staff  of  the  army,  did  all  that  they  could  to  succor  the 
wounded,  and  to  save  the  many  who  were  ill  from 
exposure  in  the  open  field  to  a  driving  storm  of  snow 
and  sleet.  One  of  the  Commission,  taking  with  him  a 
large  quantity  of  sanitary  stores,  went  down  to  Cairo 
and  Paducah,  accompanied  by  a  delegation  of  physicians, 
nurses  and  members  of  the  Ladies'  Union  Aid  Society. 
At  Paducah,  whither  many  of  the  sick  and  wounded 
had  been  sent,  the  volunteer  helpers  from  St.  Louis 
were  courteously  received  by  Medical  Director  Sim- 


Homes  and  Hospitals  297 

monds.  He  put  at  their  disposal  the  steamboat,  "Ben 
Franklin/'  and  filled  it  with  wounded  soldiers  to  be 
carried  to  St.  Louis.  On  their  way  thither  these  suffering 
soldiers  were  tenderly  nursed.  The  steamer  became  a 
hospital.  Out  of  this  experience  naturally  emerged  a 
most  practical  and  beneficient  institution,  the  Floating 
Hospital.  The  Western  Sanitary  Commission  took  up 
this  new  idea.  They  at  once  purchased  and  fitted  up 
the  "City  of  Louisiana,"  at  a  cost  of  three  thousand 
dollars.  A  year  later  the  government  purchased  her, 
put  into  her  five  hundred  beds,  and,  in  honor  of  the 
Assistant  Surgeon  General  of  the  United  States  Army, 
named  her,  the  "R.  C.  Wood."  From  time  to  time,  as 
new  exigencies  arose,  the  commission  added  other 
steamers  to  their  medical  flotilla,  until  they  had  on  the 
Mississippi  four  floating  hospitals.  As  our  armies  and 
gunboats  moved  down  the  river,  these  floating  asylums 
for  the  sick  and  wounded  were  always  close  at  hand, 
ready  to  receive  and  aid  with  all  their  resources  those 
disabled  by  disease  or  by  shot  and  shell. 

The  Commission  also  devised  the  flying  hospital,  or 
hospital  on  wheels.  It  was  furnished  with  cots  and 
medical  stores.  It  could  accompany  an  army  on  the 
march  and  be  always  close  at  hand  promptly  to  meet 
urgent  needs  whenever  any  unlooked-for  disaster  might 
come.  This  hospital  did  considerable  service  in  Missouri, 
and  was  warmly  commended  by  Assistant  Surgeon 
General  Wood. 

Nor  must  we  fail  to  note  the  fact  that  the  Commission 
not  only  planted  hospitals  and  homes  in  St.  Louis,  but, 
acting  in  concert  with  the  regular  medical  staff  of  the 
army,  in  all  the  principal  cities  captured  by  our  armies 
on  or  near  the  Mississippi  River.  They  struck  hands 
with  the  United  States  Sanitary  Commission  in  founding 


298        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

and  equipping  at  Memphis  ten  hospitals.  They  sent 
sanitary  supplies  as  far  as  Little  Rock,  the  Red 
River,  Nashville,  Jackson,  Miss.,  Chattanooga,  Tenn., 
and  Texas.  Wherever  there  was  any  pressing  need, 
workers  from  St.  Louis,  both  men  and  women,  were 
found. 

Mr.  Yeatman  himself  often  went  down  the  river  to 
superintend  in  person  this  ever-expanding  work  of 
benevolence.  On  one  of  his  expeditions,  he  took  to 
Grant's  army,  then  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Vicksburg, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  tons  of  sanitary  supplies.  And 
during  all  that  protracted  siege,  the  floating  hospitals 
fitted  out  by  the  Commission  were  just  at  hand. 

But  the  Commission  did  not  confine  itself  wholly  to 
the  West.  During  the  Peninsular  Campaign  by  Mc- 
Glellan,  they  sent  sanitary  stores  to  Washington;  and 
from  May  1st  to  November  1st,  1864,  forwarded  to 
Sherman's  army,  operating  in  Georgia,  supplies 
"  amounting  to  hundreds  of  tons."  Nor  did  they  forget 
the  starving  prisoners  at  Andersonville,  but  sent  them 
through  General  Sherman  such  stores  as  were  impera 
tively  needed  to  alleviate  their  appalling  miseries, 
although  these  gifts  of  mercy  never  reached  their 
destination.  When,  however,  at  a  later  day,  a  goodly 
number  of  these  prisoners  were  exchanged  at  Vicksburg, 
the  same  supplies  were  then  distributed  among  them, 
and  when  they  saw  on  the  boxes  the  name  of  General 
Sherman,  their  joy  was  unbounded. 

But  in  this  meagre  sketch  of  the  magnificent  work  of 
the  Sanitary  Commission,  we  wish  in  a  few  lines  to  give 
at  least  a  hint  of  its  efforts  to  meet  in  some  measure 
the  necessities  of  the  freedmen  outside  of  St.  Louis. 
Between  Cairo,  111.,  and  Natchez,  Miss.,  at  least  forty 
thousand  of  them  were  found  that  greatly  needed  help. 


Homes  and  Hospitals  299 

That  whole  region  had  been  for  months  a  battle-ground. 
Landowners  had  fled.  Plantations  were  broken  up. 
Slaves,  happy  in  their  new-found  freedom,  had  followed 
our  armies,  looking  upon  them  as  their  deliverers;  yet 
bewildered  as  to  what  they  were  to  do.  Some  Union 
generals,  impeded  by  them,  and  lacking  in  humanity, 
treated  them  with  cruelty.  Especially  was  this  true 
at  Helena  and  Memphis,  where  they  compelled  the 
freedmen  to  work  hard  without  compensation,  while 
their  families  were  left  in  extreme  want.  This  to  Mr. 
Yeatman  was  like  a  trumpet  blast.  He  took  hold  of  this 
new  problem  with  marvellous  energy.  He  appealed 
to  the  country  for  help.  There  was  benevolent  response 
from  almost  every  quarter.  Massachusetts  especially 
sent  in  generous  quantities  both  goods  and  money. 
Nor  did  St.  Louis  lag  behind  in  her  gifts.  The  replenished 
Commission  sent  to  the  hungry  and  ragged  freedmen 
large  supplies  of  both  food  and  clothing;  established 
hospitals  for  them  in  different  places;  provided  them 
with  physicians,  nurses  and  medicines;  put  a  stop  to 
the  tyranny  of  inconsiderate  or  hard-hearted  military 
officers;  and  established  schools  for  them  in  which  they 
were  taught  to  read,  and  write,  to  add  and  substract, 
and  to  do  properly  the  ordinary  work  of  the  kitchen  and 
field.  Mr.  Yeatman  went  over  all  the  territory  where 
the  men  and  women,  sent  out  by  the  Commission,  were 
working  for  the  freedmen,  and  gave  to  them  such  sug 
gestions  and  directions  as  in  his  judgment  would  render 
their  work  most  beneficent  and  fruitful.  He  himself 
established  for  the  freedmen  a  system  of  work  on  plan 
tations  around  Vicksburg,  which,  before  the  close  of  the 
war,  yielded  the  best  results.  On  behalf  of  his  project 
he  appealed  to  the  public  through  the  press;  laid  it 
personally  before  the  President  and  found  for  it  an  open 


300        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

ear  and  thus  enlisted  the  government  on  its  behalf. 
He  had  the  qualities  needed  for  dealing  with  an  ignorant 
people  just  freed  from  bondage:  sense,  justice,  and  love. 

Still  our  cursory  survey  of  the  work  of  the  Commis 
sion  would  be  quite  incomplete  without  casting  a  glance 
at  what  they  did  for  the  white  refugees  in  all  that  great 
region  south  of  Missouri  on  both  sides  of  the  Mississippi 
River.  Great  as  the  number  of  these  refugees  was  in 
St.  Louis,  it  was  far  greater  in  that  vast  territory. 
There  the  Commission,  as  exigencies  arose,  selected, 
one  after  another,  ten  central  points,  each  of  which  was 
made  headquarters  for  all  the  region  contiguous  to  it. 
At  these  centres  they  founded  temporary  hospitals, 
and  opened  schools  for  the  refugees.  They  fed,  clothed, 
taught  and  nursed  them,  and,  so  far  as  practicable,  put 
them  to  work.  It  takes  but  a  moment  to  write  this,  but 
these  words  are  a  symbol  representing  a  prodigious 
amount  of  patient,  self-sacrificing  toil. 

Moreover,  the  Soldiers'  Home  had  proved  itself  to  be 
so  great  a  blessing  in  St.  Louis,  that  the  Commission 
established  five  others  in  the  States  to  the  south  con 
quered  by  our  armies.  And  up  to  December,  1865,  all 
these  Homes,  including  the  one  in  our  city,  had  enter 
tained  without  charge  four  hundred  and  twenty-one 
thousand  six  hundred  and  sixteen  soldiers;  furnished 
them  nine  hundred  and  eighty-two  thousand  five  hun 
dred  and  ninetj^-two  meals,  and  four  hundred  and  ten 
thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty-two  lodgings. 

In  all  this  beneficent  work  the  loyal  inhabitants  of 
St.  Louis  had  a  large  share.  We  liberally  contributed 
to  it  goods,  money  and  service.  But  the  demands  upon 
us  within  our  own  gates  were  onerous  and  well-nigh 
exhausting.  The  time,  strength  and  material  resources 
of  every  one  were  laid  under  tribute;  tribute  which,  for 


Homes  and  Hospitals  301 

the  most  part,  was  gladly  paid.  All  Christian  pastors 
and  priests  worked  much  in  camps  and  hospitals.  They 
conducted  many  public  services,  often  preached,  and 
incessantly  ministered  to  the  sick  and  dying. 

When  volunteers  began  to  gather  in  large  numbers 
at  St.  Louis,  in  connection  with  other  pastors  of  the 
city,  I  preached,  as  I  had  time  and  opportunity,  in  the 
camps.  I  was  greeted  by  attentive,  intelligent  audiences. 
Many  regiments  were  made  up  largely  of  Christian 
men  who,  while  encamped,  regularly  maintained  prayer 
meetings.  There  was  one  regiment  from  Illinois,  having 
in  its  ranks  above  a  thousand  young  men,  more  than 
half  of  whom  read  their  Greek  Testaments. 

But  we  met  them  for  religious  services  not  only  in 
camp,  but  also  in  buildings  in  the  city  specially  pro 
vided  for  that  purpose. 

In  an  empty  store  on  Fourth  Street,  on  the  ground 
floor,  there  were  long  tables.  For  many  days,  at  the 
noon  hour,  soldiers  passing  through  the  city  or  tem 
porarily  stopping  there,  marched  in  and  sat  down  at 
those  tables  for  their  midday  meal.  I  was  asked  by 
Drs.  Eliot  and  Post  to  take  my  turn  with  them  in 
preaching  to  these  soldiers  as  they  ate.  To  this  I  con 
sented,  but  found  it  a  difficult  task.  I  stood  at  the 
head  of  the  table  and  delivered  my  message,  while  the 
militant  audience  consumed  their  rations  of  hardtack, 
bacon  and  coffee.  They  had  tin  plates,  cups  and  spoons, 
and  cheap  iron  knives;  and  though  they  were  always 
respectful,  and  declared  that  they  wanted  and  enjoyed 
the  preaching,  the  clatter  of  their  metal  dishes  was  so 
loud  and  incessant,  that  it  disturbed  not  a  little  my 
course  of  thought.  But  I  did  my  best. 

When  the  hospitals  were  opened  I  found  in  them  the 
largest  opportunities  to  labor  on  behalf  of  the  soldiers. 


302        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

For  a  time  I  worked  a  part  of  almost  every  day  in  the 
Sisters'  Hospital.  For  years  it  had  been  cared  for  by 
the  Sisters  of  Charity;  but  for  the  time  being  it  was 
thrown  open  for  the  use  of  the  government.  Here  I 
often  found  sick  and  wounded  men  from  both  of  the 
contending  armies;  Federal  and  Confederate  soldiers, 
the  blue  and  the  gray,  here  lay  peacefully  side  by  side. 
For  the  time  at  least  their  animosity  was  gone.  Suffer 
ing  had  made  them  kin.  The  heart  of  the  man  in  gray 
was  touched,  when  he  saw  that  he  was  as  carefully  nursed 
as  the  man  in  blue. 

In  my  ministrations  to  suffering  Southerners,  I  care 
fully  avoided  all  allusion  to  the  war,  and  our  political 
differences.  But,  apparently  astonished  at  the  kindness 
shown  them,  many  of  them  would  broach  some  question 
concerning  the  national  conflict,  and  when  they  did  so, 
I  always  answered  their  queries  as  best  I  could.  On 
one  point  most  of  them  were  set,  and  that  was  that  the 
North  began  the  war.  I  assured  them  that  in  this  they 
were  altogether  in  error,  and  rehearsed  to  them  the 
historical  facts.  They  said  that  they  could  hardly 
believe  my  statement,  since  they  had  been  often  told 
the  exact  contrary. 

I  met  in  that  hospital  a  Confederate  soldier  from  one 
of  the  western  counties  of  Arkansas.  His  name  was 
Anderson.  He  had  small,  shining  black  eyes,  peeping 
out  from  under  black  eyebrows;  long,  heavy,  black 
whiskers,  unkempt  and  begrimed,  needing  the  cleansing 
power  of  soap  and  water;  thick,  shocky  black  hair  that 
hung  down  to  his  shoulders,  and  was  as  coarse  as  the 
hair  on  a  horse's  tail.  When  I  first  saw  him  I  had  a 
strong  desire  to  have  a  talk  with  a  man  so  peculiar  and 
who  bore  my  surname.  While  he  could  neither  read 
nor  write,  I  found  him  intelligent  on  all  matters  per- 


Homes  and  Hospitals  303 

taining  to  his  county,  but  about  things  outside  of  his 
own  immediate  neighborhood,  he  knew  next  to  nothing. 
He  never  had  been  away  from  home  before.  Having 
been  taken  prisoner,  he  was  compelled  to  travel.  Con 
trary  to  his  will  he  had  begun  to  see  more  of  the  world. 
But  he  was  absolutely  sure  that  the  "  Yanks  "  had 
begun  the  "wicked  war."  He  informed  me,  that  the 
North  first  fired  on  the  South.  Nor  could  I  convince  him 
of  his  error.  He  was  ignorant,  and  a  hot  Southerner. 
His  under  jaw  was  square  and  each  ropy  hair  springing 
out  of  his  tawny  scalp  looked  as  though  it  were  clinched 
on  the  inside  of  his  skull.  A  face  so  strange  and  strong, 
I  can  never  forget. 

A  few  days  later,  in  the  same  hospital,  I  was  urgently 
asked  by  a  man  about  thirty-five  years  of  age  to  help 
him  solve  a  question  of  conscience.  He  was  a  Quaker 
by  birth  and  conviction.  He  had  imbibed  with  his 
mother's  milk  the  notion  that  war  was  prohibited  by 
the  commandment,  "Thou  shalt  not  kill."  By  educa 
tion  it  had  been  interwoven  with  all  his  thinking.  But 
having  at  the  same  time  a  great  abhorrence  of  human 
bondage,  when,  in  his  neighborhood,  scores  of  men 
were  enlisting  to  fight  a  Confederacy,  the  corner-stone 
of  which  had  been  boastfully  declared  to  be  African 
slavery,  the  doctrine  that  war  was  murder  sank  so 
completely  into  the  background  that,  for  a  time,  he 
became  quite  unconscious  of  it.  Aflame  with  patriotism, 
along  with  his  neighbors,  he  volunteered  to  fight  the 
enemies  of  the  Union.  Then  came  the  long,  toilsome 
days  of  military  drill,  and  the  march  southward  to  meet 
the  foe  in  battle.  He  had  much  time  for  thought. 
As  he  reflected,  the  conviction  that  no  war  is  justifiable, 
which,  for  a  season,  had  been  submerged,  came  up  out 
of  the  depths  of  his  subconsciousness  and  reasserted 


304       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

itself.  He  began  to  feel  utterly  out  of  place.  He 
had  taken  a  solemn  oath  to  do  what  his  conscience 
utterly  forbade.  He  was  in  deep  distress.  There  was 
no  one  to  whom  he  could  unbosom  himself.  He  was 
among  thousands  of  his  countrymen,  but  felt  absolutely 
alone.  His  regiment  was  ordered  into  battle.  For 
hours  with  his  comrades  in  arms  he  loaded  and  fired; 
but  he  could  not  shoot  at  his  fellow  men,  so  he  shot  into 
the  air  above  their  heads.  But  this  was  a  violation  of 
his  oath.  And  after  the  battle  was  over  and  he  had 
been  sent  to  this  hospital,  what  he  had  done  tortured 
him.  Conscience  pierced  him  for  having  broken  his 
oath  as  a  soldier,  although  that  same  conscience  had 
driven  him  to  break  it.  In  his  agony  of  spirit  he  pitifully 
appealed  to  me.  "What  shall  I  do?  What  can  I 
do?  "  I  dealt  with  him  honestly.  I  told  him  that  he 
had  no  moral  right  to  violate  his  conscience.  But 
since  his  conscience  had  put  him  between  two  fires,  it 
was  his  duty  to  tell  his  story  to  the  military  authorities, 
and  ask  to  be  discharged  from  the  army.  I  assured 
him  that  they  had  no  wish  to  compel  men  to  fight,  who 
could  not  do  so  with  a  good  conscience.  Still  he  seemed 
to  be  greatly  distressed  to  think  that,  contrary  to  his 
oath,  he  had  shot  into  the  air,  during  that  battle.  But 
he  did  as  I  advised  him  to  do,  and  a  few  days  afterwards 
I  heard  that,  on  the  ground  of  his  conscientious  scruples, 
he  had  been  honorably  dismissed  from  his  regiment. 

About  this  time,  March,  1862,  I  was  asked  to  take 
the  oversight  of  the  religious  work  in  the  Fifth  Street 
Hospital.  It  became  my  duty  to  supply  the  sick  and 
wounded  there  with  religious  papers  and  books.  These 
were  freely  contributed  by  loyal  Christian  families.  A 
book  from  my  own  library,  "The  Signet  Ring,"  was  very 
popular  among  the  soldiers.  It  is  a  good  book  still,  but 


Homes  and  Hospitals  305 

scarcely  known  to  the  present  generation.  It  was  also 
incumbent  on  me  to  provide  for  religious  services  in  the 
hospital.  These  were  held  in  the  different  wards,  but 
especially  in  those  wards  where  were  gathered  the 
convalescents,  and  those  suffering  from  the  milder 
forms  of  disease.  The  services  were  very  simple  and 
brief.  A  few  words  of  Scripture  were  read,  some  joyful 
hymn  was  sung,  and  a  prayer  was  poured  out  from  the 
heart.  Then  a  short  sermon  followed,  presenting  some 
truth  that  comforted  and  helped  those  that  were  in 
trouble.  These  services  were  conducted  sometimes  by 
chaplains  of  regiments,  often  by  the  different  pastors 
of  the  city,  and  were  frequently  marked  by  unusual 
fervor.  The  eagerness  with  which  the  sick  and  wounded 
men  listened  was  wonderful.  They  were  reminded  of 
their  churches  at  home,  of  loved  ones  with  whom  they 
had  often  met;  their  hearts  were  full  and  the  irrepressible 
tears  started.  At  times  during  those  moments  of  service 
heaven  and  earth  seemed  to  meet  and  blend. 

There  were  in  this  hospital,  as  in  all  the  rest,  some 
professional  women  nurses,  and  they  were  very  efficient. 
They  did  their  work  not  only  with  technical  skill,  but 
they  had  that  prime  quality  that  must  ever  characterize 
nurses  of  the  highest  order,  heartfelt  sympathy  with 
those  whose  sufferings  they  strove  to  alleviate.  But  in 
addition  to  these,  there  were  many  volunteer  nurses, 
women,  who,  by  regular  appointment,  were  there  at 
all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  They  were  ready  to  do 
any  service  within  their  power.  They  worked  under  the 
direction  of  the  physicians  and  in  harmony  with  the 
professional  nurses.  They  often  brought  with  them, 
from  their  own  household  stores,  such  appetizing  foods 
as  reminded  the  sick  soldiers  of  the  tender  nursing  that 
in  homes  far  away  they  had  sometimes  received  from 


306        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

mother  or  sister.  A  little  gruel  or  soup,  or  fruit,  or 
jelly,  how  grateful  to  the  palate,  and  cheering  to  the 
spirit!  The  very  thought  of  it  started  many  a  sick 
soldier  boy  on  the  road  to  health  and  further  service 
in  the  field. 

The  tender  sympathy  which  these  women  lavished  on 
the  suffering  was  often  more  healing  than  medicine. 
And  when,  sitting  by  the  bedside  of  languishing  heroes, 
sick  it  may  be  even  unto  death,  they  wrote  letters  for 
them  to  the  loved  ones  at  home,  these  missives  throbbed 
with  a  mother's  love  and  were  often  wet  with  a  mother's 
tears. 

An  incident  of  that  kind  comes  vividly  to  mind  as  I 
write.  A  young  man  from  Indiana  lay  on  his  death-bed. 
He  was  about  twenty-two  years  old  and  fully  six  feet 
in  height.  He  was  muscular  and  strong.  But  pneumonia 
had  seized  upon  him  and  had  baffled  the  best  skill  of 
the  surgeon.  He  had  been  told  that  he  could  not  live 
more  than  five  or  six  hours  longer.  But  he  was  a 
Christian  and  had  hope  of  a  glorious  immortality.  In 
the  final  arrangement  of  his  affairs  he  was  as  calm  in 
spirit  as  if  he  were  going  out  on  dress  parade.  By  his 
cot  sat  a  young  mother.  He  asked  her  to  write  to  his 
family  and  tell  them  what  to  do  with  his  things.  She 
wrote  as  he  suggested,  her  heart  almost  bursting  with 
emotion.  He  gave  one  thing  to  this  sister,  another  to 
that  brother,  and  last  of  all  he  said,  "I  give  Jeff.  C. 
Davis  to  my  youngest  brother."  "But  what  is  Jeff. 
C.  Davis?  "  asked  the  one  who  was  writing  for  him  his 
last  letter,  and  there  were  tears  in  her  voice.  He  replied, 
a  smile  playing  around  his  lips, "  It  is  my  colt.  I  named 
him  for  General  Davis,  who  is  an  Indianian  and  very 
popular  in  our  State." 

It  was  no  formal  letter  which  she  penned  in  that 


Homes  and  Hospitals  307 

sad  hour.  Into  its  words  and  sentences  went  the  glowing 
sympathy  of  a  mother's  heart.  But  it  is  only  an  example 
of  thousands  of  others.  When  the  letter  was  finished, 
the  face  of  the  young  man  betokened  the  most  perfect 
satisfaction.  His  work  was  done.  He  was  ready  to 
depart.  I  prayed  with  him.  I  left  him  with  a  smile 
on  his  face.  He  was  so  cheerful  that  I  began  to  think 
that  the  surgeon  had  made  a  mistake;  but  when  I 
returned  a  few  hours  afterwards,  "he  was  not,  for  God 
took  him." 

In  addition  to  the  above  it  is  with  no  little  pleasure 
that  I  give  one  incident  among  many  that  vividly 
reveal  the  patriotic  devotion  of  the  rank  and  file  of 
our  army.  Near  the  beginning  of  the  war,  I  was  called 
one  night  to  marry  a  volunteer  cavalry  soldier.  Imme 
diately  after,  he  rode  away  under  the  command  of 
Zagonyi,  to  Springfield,  Missouri.  In  entering  that  city 
a  charge  was  made  between  two  lines  of  Confederate 
soldiers,  and  my  friend  was  shot.  For  several  hours 
he  lay  on  the  frosty  ground,  slowly  bleeding;  and 
then,  faint  and  exhausted,  he  was  put  into  an  army 
wagon  which  went  jolting  over  rough  roads  to  Rolla, 
and  from  there  he  was  sent  by  the  cars  to  St.  Louis.  I 
found  him  in  the  hospital,  so  changed  that  I  did  not  at 
once  recognize  him.  But  when  all  doubt  as  to  his 
identity  was  brushed  away,  he  pathetically  told  me  the 
story  of  his  suffering.  He  had  been  shot  through  the 
shoulder;  the  bone  had  been  shattered;  pieces  of  it 
had  protruded  from  the  wound  and  had  been  removed. 
He  had  preserved  them.  They  were  more  precious  to 
him  than  diamonds.  He  kept  them  neatly  wrapped  in 
a  paper  under  his  pillow.  With  his  trembling,  emaciated 
hand  he  took  them  out  slowly  and  carefully  unwrapped 
them  and  showed  them  to  me.  Then  wrapping  them 


308       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

up  again,  he  put  them  back  under  his  pillow,  and  look 
ing  up,  his  eye  began  to  gleam  as  he  said:  "The  doctors 
say  that  I  cannot  recover.  I  think  that  they  are  mis 
taken.  I  shall  get  well.  You  see  that  it  is  the  left 
shoulder  that  is  wounded.  When  it  heals  it  will  be  stiff, 
but  I  can  still  hold  the  reins  of  my  horse  in  my  left  hand ; 
and  then,  sir/7  with  great  emphasis  for  an  apparently 
dying  man,  he  added,  "I  have  one  more  shoulder  for 
my  country."  He  did  live  to  fight  many  a  hard  battle 
thereafter.  But  I  could  never  forget  those  brave, 
burning  words,  words  instinct  with  self-sacrifice:  "Then, 
sir,  I  have  one  more  shoulder  for  my  country." 

In  closing  this  inadequate  sketch  of  our  hospitals,  I 
wish  gratefully  to  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  they 
were  an  immeasurable  blessing  to  St.  Louis.  They 
marvellously  developed  the  benevolence  of  the  city. 
By  them  scores  of  men  and  women  were  lifted  up  out 
of  their  selfishness.  In  ministering  to  those  in  need 
they  forgot  themselves.  In  spite  of  all  the  evils  of  the 
war,  it  led  more  people  in  our  city  to  live  in  some  measure 
the  life  of  Christ  than  any  other  influence  had  ever 
before  done.  The  best  exhibition  of  Christianity  ever 
witnessed  within  our  gates  was  that  band  of  devoted 
workers  seen  every  day  and  night  in  the  camps  and 
hospitals.  Hundreds  of  women  whose  Christian  activities 
had  never  before  gone  beyond  the  family  or  the  individual 
church,  now  like  their  divine  Lord  went  about  doing 
good.  Like  the  good  Samaritan,  they  had  compassion 
upon  all  that  they  found  in  distress,  irrespective  of 
nationality  or  creed. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   MISSISSIPPI   VALLEY   SANITARY  FAIR 

As  the  war  went  on,  the  demands  on  the  Western 
Sanitary  Commission  became  enormous.  At  the  close 
of  1863  and  the  beginning  of  1864  the  Commission 
found  its  treasury  well  nigh  empty.  Something  must 
be  done  to  replenish  it.  After  careful  deliberation,  the 
Commission  decided  to  hold  a  fair,  believing  that  thereby 
it  could  secure  the  funds  required  for  its  vastly  important 
work.  So  on  February  1st,  1864,  it  inaugurated  this 
popular  movement. 

General  William  Starke  Rosecrans,  who,  in  January, 
had  succeeded  General  Schofield  in  command  of  the 
Department  of  Missouri,  was  made  president  of  the  Fair. 
From  the  start  the  project  was  popular.  In  St.  Louis 
the  people  took  hold  of  it  with  marked  enthusiasm. 
They  were  ready  to  work  and  give  to  make  it  a  success. 
That  thoroughness  might  characterize  all  that  was  done 
they  carefully  organized  their  forces.  They  divided 
among  themselves  the  multifarious  tasks  to  be  per 
formed.  They  appointed  committees  to  look  after  every 
important  detail,  and  to  report  to  the  central  authority. 
So  amid  the  multiplicity  of  things  there  was  unity  and 
order.  It  was  exhilarating  to  see  a  great  community 
so  stirred  up  in  the  doing  of  a  patriotic  and  benevolent 
work,  that,  for  a  time,  all  conventionalities  of  society 
and  distinctions  of  race  or  creed  were  forgotten.  Protes- 


310        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

tant  and  Catholic,  Jew  and  Gentile,  Europeans  and 
Americans,  whites  and  blacks  met,  and  elbowed,  and 
emulated  each  other  in  working  for  the  soldiers  of 
the  Union. 

But  a  work  so  great  could  not  be  done  by  our  city 
alone,  however  willing  and  diligent  we  might  be;  so, 
the  Commission  appealed  for  help  to  the  people  of  other 
cities  and  States.  The  response  was  prompt  and  exceed 
ingly  generous.  Money  and  large  consignments  of 
useful  articles  to  be  sold  at  the  Fair  came  from  Boston, 
Salem,  Worcester,  Providence,  New  Bedford,  New 
Haven,  New  York,  Brooklyn,  Philadelphia,  Nevada 
(then  a  remote  mining  territory),  England  and  Germany. 
Other  givers  also  in  justice  should  be  mentioned,  but 
we  name  these  merely  to  show  how  cosmopolitan  the 
donations  to  the  Fair  were.  Helping  hands  were 
stretched  across  the  sea  to  us.  Wars  on  behalf  of  the 
oppressed  are  wars  of  progress,  and  make  kin  the 
lovers  of  righteousness  in  all  the  nations. 

But  among  the  givers  St.  Louis  herself  ranked  with 
the  first.  Her  business  men  contributed  large  amounts 
of  goods;  her  families,  vast  numbers  of  salable  articles 
made  in  their  homes;  her  artists  and  lovers  of  art, 
valuable  paintings,  etchings,  and  engravings;  and 
some  liberally  gave  money. 

When  the  Fair  opened  on  May  17th,  there  was  in  its 
treasury  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  cash,  which 
had  been  contributed  by  men  in  St.  Louis  and  in  dif 
ferent  parts  of  the  Union. 

The  building  for  the  Fair  was  on  Twelfth  Street.  It 
was  five  hundred  feet  long  and  extended  from  St.  Charles 
to  Olive  Street.  It  had  wings  on  Locust  Street,  each 
one  hundred  feet  by  fifty-four.  In  the  centre  of  the 
building  was  an  octagon  seventy-five  feet  in  diameter 


Mississippi  Valley  Sanitary  Fair       311 

and  fifty  feet  high.  This  octagon  was  lavishly  decorated 
with  mottoes,  national  banners,  battle  trophies,  such  as 
flags  and  weapons  captured  from  the  enemy,  and  arbors 
of  evergreens  and  flowers. 

The  building  was  divided  into  various  departments. 
One  department  was  devoted  to  the  refugees.  Since 
they  were  a  special  object  of  charity  and  so  much 
was  needed  adequately  to  meet  their  wants,  and  the 
sympathies  of  so  many  were  specially  drawn  out 
to  them,  it  seemed  quite  necessary  to  devote  a  gen 
erous  space  in  the  building  to  their  particular  benefit. 
The  same  was  true  of  the  freedmen,  and  a  department 
was  assigned  to  those  who  were  especially  interested 
in  meeting  their  wants  and  promoting  their  general 
welfare. 

The  Germans,  being  so  large  a  part  of  our  population, 
and  so  ardently  devoted  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
Union,  were  given  a  large  space  in  the  building,  where 
they  patriotically  sold  lager  beer,  and  a  host  of  people 
patriotically  drank  it.  Very  many  connected  with  the 
Fair  strongly  objected  to  this,  but  being  in  the  minority 
were  unable  to  prevent  it. 

During  the  days  of  preparation  for  the  Fair  a  com 
mittee  was  appointed  to  meet  a  delegation  from  our 
German  fellow-citizens  and  if  possible  persuade  them 
to  give  up  the  project  of  selling  beer  at  the  Fair.  I 
was  chairman,  and  presented  as  well  as  I  could  the 
earnest  desire  of  the  temperance  people.  The  German, 
who  was  the  spokesman  of  his  delegation,  understood 
English  quite  perfectly,  but  could  not  speak  it  very 
well.  He  had  not  been  at  all  persuaded  by  the  con 
siderations  that  I  had  presented,  and  among  other 
things  that  he  vehemently  urged  in  reply  was  this: 
"  Zhentelmen,"  said  he,  "  lager  peer  vill  not  make 


312       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

men  trunk;  it  vill  not,  it  mil  not.  Zhentelmen,  and  ef 
any  one  gets  trunk,  we  have  already,  zhentelmen, 
engaged  the  police  to  take  him  to  de  calaboose."  So 
this,  and  every  effort  that  we  put  forth  to  rid  the  Fair 
of  lager  beer,  proved  abortive;  and  it  was  sold,  innumer 
able  kegs  of  it,  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  our  soldiers. 
But  in  justice  it  ought  to  be  added  that  no  one  became 
so  intoxicated  that  it  was  necessary  to  take  him  to  the 
calaboose. 

But  we  can  only  name  the  multiplied  departments 
and  varied  attractions  of  this  famous  Fair.  It  had  its 
curiosity  shop,  and  skating  park;  its  floral  park  and 
gallery  of  fine  arts;  its  counters  on  which  all  kinds  of 
merchandise  were  offered  for  sale;  its  separate  rooms 
for  war  trophies,  agricultural  implements,  sewing 
machines,  for  the  sale  of  works  of  art,  and  for  the 
exhibition  of  gold  and  silver  bars  from  Nevada.  There 
were  also  refreshment  saloons  or  restaurants,  the  New 
England,  and  the  Holland  kitchen,  where  patriotic  women 
cooked  and  washed  dishes  for  the  Union  and  where  the 
hungry  ate  for  the  same  lofty  purpose.  And  then  there 
were  confectioners'  counters,  a  cafe,  and  an  improvised 
theatre,  where  were  presented  various  dramas  and  other 
public  amusements.  Patriotism,  the  underlying  motive 
of  it,  lifted  up  and  glorified  all  the  drudgery  and  all  the 
innocent  pastimes  connected  with  it. 

The  evenings  at  the  Fair  were  made  specially  attract 
ive.  Then  the  men  that  had  been  absorbed  in  business 
during  the  day  came  with  their  families.  The  great 
building  was  lighted  as  brilliantly  as  it  could  be  with 
gas.  Electric  lights  had  not  yet  appeared.  In  the 
gallery  trained  bands  skilfully  discoursed  patriotic 
music.  Often  the  commanding  general  with  his  staff, 
in  their  brightest  uniform,  was  present.  It  is  wonderful 


Mississippi  Valley  Sanitary  Fair        313 

how  the  crowd  is  charmed  by  military  clothes!  The 
names  of  the  Union  generals  together  with  the  names 
of  the  battles  that  they  had  fought  were  blazoned  on  the 
walls,  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  hung  out  everywhere, 
while  women  from  the  first  families  of  the  city  were 
busy  selling  all  sorts  of  useful  articles.  No  one  who 
shared  in  those  festivities,  who  saw  and  heard  and 
drank  in  the  spirit  of  that  patriotic  throng  can  ever 
forget  it. 

One  feature  was  specially  novel.  The  colored  soldiers, 
enlisted  and  drilled  under  the  direction  of  General 
Schofield,  during  the  Fair  constantly  did  guard  duty. 
They  also  distinguished  themselves,  and  greatly  com 
mended  themselves  to  all  right-minded  people,  by 
liberally  contributing  from  their  meagre  wages  to  aid 
the  refugees  and  freedmen.  Colored  people  also  freely 
visited  the  Fair  and  made  purchases.  It  looked  like  a 
revolution  when  we  saw,  in  a  slave  State,  white  women 
of  high  social  standing,  without  complaint  or  a  murmur, 
sell  articles  to  colored  purchasers.  Once  or  twice  indeed 
some  whites  took  offence  at  this  radical  and  apparently 
abrupt  change  from  the  old  order  of  things,  but  on  the 
whole  the  sentiment  toward  the  colored  people  was 
humane,  reasonable,  and  liberal. 

The  Fair  proved  a  great  financial  success.  Its  net 
proceeds  were  five  hundred  and  fifty-four  thousand 
five  hundred  and  ninety-one  dollars,  at  least  three 
dollars  and  fifty  cents  for  each  inhabitant  of  our  city; 
but  the  result  was  largely  due  to  contributors  beyond 
our  borders;  nevertheless  it  can  be  said  of  St.  Louis 
that  she  did  the  work  which  made  this  great  success 
possible,  and  at  the  same  time  liberally  gave  to  the 
Fair  both  merchandise  and  money.  The  large  amount 
of  money  realized,  together  with  other  donations, 


314        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

enabled  the  Sanitary  Commission  to  complete  its  great 
work.  In  addition  to  the  sums  of  money  that  it  directly 
disbursed  to  aid  our  armies,  it  appropriated  to  the 
Ladies'  Union  Aid  Society  fifty  thousand  dollars  for 
hospital  work  and  the  assistance  of  soldiers'  families. 
It  also  devoted  one  thousand  dollars  per  month  to  the 
aid  of  the  freedmen,  and  established  at  Webster,  ten 
miles  west  of  the  city,  a  Soldiers'  Orphans'  Home,  at 
a  cost  from  first  to  last  of  over  forty  thousand  dollars. 
The  Home  accommodated  one  hundred  and  fifty  father 
less  children. 

But  the  Fair  was  a  blessing  not  only  to  refugees  and 
freedmen,  to  the  sick  and  wounded  in  hospitals,  to  the 
widows  and  orphans  of  our  slain  heroes,  but  it  was  also 
a  measureless  boon  to  St.  Louis.  It  was  one  more 
mighty  agency  for  curing  us  of  our  selfishness.  For  a 
time  at  least  it  broke  in  upon  our  commercialism,  and 
led  us  to  think  of  others  and  to  do  something  for  their 
welfare. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A   DARK   PLOT  THWARTED 

WHEN  Major-General  Rosecrans,  on  January  30th, 
1864,  assumed  command  of  the  Department  of  Missouri, 
he  delivered  to  his  predecessor,  General  Schofield,  a  com 
plimentary  farewell  address.  He  warmly  commended 
him  for  what  he  had  done  in  our  State,  and  congratulated 
him  that  he  was  about  to  take  part  in  great  campaigns. 
It  was  no  flattery,  but  a  candid,  sincere  utterance  of 
which  the  recipient  was  altogether  worthy.  It  was  an 
honor  both  to  him  who  uttered  it  and  to  him  on  whom 
it  was  bestowed. 

General  Rosecrans  himself  came  to  us  from  active 
campaigning,  where  he  had  rendered  the  most  patriotic 
and  arduous  service,  but  had  failed  in  attaining  the 
highest  success.  At  the  eleventh  hour  he  had  lost  the 
great  and  hotly  contested  battle  of  Chickamauga  by 
giving  a  blundering  order  to  one  of  his  subordinate 
generals.1  His  intimate  friends  thought  that  ever  after 
he  carried  in  his  face  the  sadness  of  that  defeat.  But 
his  spirit  was  not  soured.  He  was  still  ready  to  serve 
his  country  in  any  way  that  he  could,  and  in  any  position 
to  which  he  might  be  called.  So  he  could  heartily  con 
gratulate  one,  then  subordinate  in  rank,  upon  entering 
the  service  that  he  had  been  compelled  to  abandon, 
while  he  himself  cheerfully  took  up  the  military 
1  Fiske,  The  Miss.  Valley  in  the  Civil  War,  p.  270. 


316        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

administration  of  the  most  distracted  region  in  the 
Union. 

We  have  already  seen  him  filling  the  office  of  president 
of  the  Mississippi  Valley  Sanitary  Fair,  and  doing  all 
that  he  could  to  promote  its  interests  by  being  present 
evenings  with  his  staff.  To  those  who  did  not,  or  could 
not,  look  below  the  surface,  the  battle  in  Missouri  for 
the  Union  seemed  to  have  been  fought  out.  So,  I  am 
sure,  most  of  the  loyal  in  St.  Louis  at  that  time  regarded 
it.  But  the  general,  and  a  few  of  the  inner  circle,  already 
ha<5  an  inkling  of  a  deep-laid  plot  to  promote  the  rebel 
lion  of  the  Southern  States  and  if  possible  to  make  it 
successful.  They  were  persuaded  that  the  surface  of 
things  was  deceptive;  that  beneath  the  dead  ashes 
there  were  smouldering  fires  that  might  suddenly 
burst  out  into  flame;  that  there  never  had  been  a  more 
urgent  demand  for  diligence  than  at  that  hour  of  super 
ficial  quiet. 

Having  found  a  clue  to  the  furtive  foe,  the  general, 
through  wisely  chosen  and  trusted  lieutenants,  followed 
it  up.  He  discreetly  kept  his  own  counsels.  He  was 
sleeplessly  persistent.  His  adroit  agents  or  spies  wormed 
themselves  into  the  confidence  of  the  clandestine  ene 
mies  of  the  Republic,  joined  their  secret  organization 
and  learned  all  their  plots;  at  the  same  time  they 
kept  constantly  in  touch  with  their  chief,  by  whom  they 
were  directed.  They  reported  to  him  each  startling  fact 
that  they  unearthed.  One  discovery  quickly  led  to 
another.  To  be  sure  the  existence  of  a  hostile  secret 
organization  had  been  hazily  knowrn  for  many  months, 
but  through  the  efforts  of  General  Rosecrans  its  extensive 
ramifications  were  traced  out,  and  its  treasonable  designs 
were  laid  bare.  It  proved  to  be  the  most  formidable 
secret  political  organization  that  probably  ever  existed 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  317 

in  America;  it  was  conceived  in  treason;  its  avowed 
object  was  the  dismemberment  of  the  Union,  the 
overthrow  of  the  government  of  the  United  States.  Its 
members  were  bound  by  oath  to  effect  this  nefarious 
purpose.  They  were  to  hesitate  at  no  crime  in  order 
to  reach  their  end.  Rather  than  fail  in  it,  they  swore 
that  they  would  commit  perjury,  arson,  pillage,  assas 
sination.  The  penalty  for  disobedience  of  any  com 
mand,  even  one  that  demanded  the  committing  of 
these  diabolical  crimes,  was  death. 

The  organization,  while  one  brotherhood,  bore  in 
different  localities  different  names:  the  most  notorious 
of  which  were:  "  The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle," 
"  The  Order  of  American  Knights,"  "  The  Order  of 
the  Star,"  and  "  The  Sons  of  Liberty."  l 

Its  ramifications  were  found  both  north  and  south 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  It  claimed  in  Missouri 
twenty-five  thousand  members;  in  Illinois  one  hundred 
and  forty  thousand;  in  Indiana  one  hundred  thousand; 
in  Ohio  eighty  thousand ;  in  Kentucky  seventy  thousand ; 
and  some  in  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  Delaware  and 
Maryland.  Vallandigham  of  Ohio  was  supreme  com 
mander  of  the  northern  wing  of  this  secret  organization, 
while  General  Sterling  Price  was  the  supreme  commander 
of  the  southern  wing.  The  northern  wing  for  many 
months  had  done  what  it  could  to  supply  the  rebels 
with  provisions  and  war  material;  it  had  also  done  for 
them  the  work  of  spying,  keeping  them  informed  as 
to  what  was  transpiring  in  the  North.  It  was  still 
committing  these  treasonable  acts,  and  even  a  few 
officers  in  our  army  were  suspected  of  lending  a  hand 
to  help  on  this  villainous  work.  And,  in  that  summer 
of  1864,  the  northern  part  of  this  oath-bound  society 
1  Nicolay  and  Hay,  Vol.  VIII,  Ch.  1. 


318        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

had  planned  to  put  forth  a  united  and  desperate  effort 
to  aid  the  rebels  in  invading  and  revolutionizing  the 
northern  States  of  the  Middle  West 1 

Now  all  this  our  general  had  quietly  ferreted  out. 
The  knowledge  acquired  by  his  skilful  manipulation 
was  of  vast  importance  not  only  to  our  city  and  State, 
but  also  to  the  general  government.  All  the  evidence 
pertaining  to  this  secret  organization  was  carefully 
written  out  and  transmitted  to  President  Lincoln.  It 
covered  one  thousand  pages  of  foolscap. 

But  at  first  only  a  very  few  of  the  loyal  of  St.  Louis, 
and,  in  fact,  of  the  nation,  had  any  definite  knowledge 
of  the  existence  of  this  secret,  insidious  foe.  The  great 
mass  of  our  fellow-citizens  stood  in  blissful  ignorance 
over  a  destructive  mine,  that  might  at  any  moment  be 
exploded.  But  thanks  to  our  general,  the  President 
and  his  counsellors  knew  it  more  perfectly  than  here 
tofore.  He  made  known  what  he  had  recently  discovered 
to  a  few  in  our  city  in  whom  he  reposed  special  con 
fidence.  He  also  revealed  it  to  his  most  trusted  lieu 
tenants.  And  what  was  all-important  to  us,  he  knew 
the  facts  of  the  whole  case  probably  more  thoroughly 
than  any  loyal  man  in  the  nation.  And  this  knowledge 
shaped  every  order  that  he  issued  and  inspired  his 
most  weighty  acts. 

It  was  still  necessary  to  garrison  all  parts  of  the  State. 
Those  in  command  of  the  garrisons  were  instructed  to 
keep  the  sharpest  possible  watch  of  all  whose  loyalty 
was  suspected;  to  break  up  all  rendezvous  of  such  men 
wherever  found;  to  permit  no  illicit  gatherings  of 
secessionists,  and  to  deprive  of  arms  all  who  expressed 
sympathy  with  the  rebellion.  Thus  the  general  laid  a 
strong,  repressive  hand  upon  "  The  Knights  of  the 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  4,  p.  505. 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  319 

Golden  Circle  "  in  our  State.  And  before  our  story 
ends  we  shall  see  how  wise  such  action  was. 

Evidently  with  his  eye  on  this  secret  fraternity  of 
the  disloyal,  that  a  little  later  he  so  fully  unearthed, 
on  March  1st,  he  forbade  any  one  to  take  negroes  from 
the  State,  but  demanded  that  by  every  legitimate 
method  they  should  be  encouraged  to  enlist  as  soldiers. 
He  declared  that  in  all  such  enlistments  the  property 
rights  of  the  master  would  be  guarded;  the  government 
would  compensate  him  for  his  chattels,  but  the  slaves 
by  their  enlistment  would  become  freemen.  The  general 
felt  that  he  should  soon  need,  to  circumvent  any  threat 
ened  disloyal  uprising,  as  many  soldiers  as  he  could 
secure,  whether  they  were  white  or  black. 

To  diminish  as  far  as  possible  the  incitement  of  the 
secretly  disloyal  to  open  rebellion,  on  the  26th  of  March, 
he  prohibited  the  circulation,  in  the  Department  of 
Missouri,  of  the  Metropolitan  Record.  This  was  a  bitter 
rebel  sheet  published  in  New  York.  It  professed  to  be 
a  Catholic  family  newspaper.  On  that  account  it  was 
specially  offensive  to  the  general,  who  was  a  devout 
Catholic.  He  felt  that  by  it  not  only  was  his  country 
betrayed,  but  also  his  church  was  greatly  misrepresented 
and  traduced.  He  declared  it  to  be  "without  ecclesias 
tical  sanction,"  and  so  "traitorous  "  that  it  could  not 
be  tolerated  even  by  the  most  liberal  interpretation  of 
the  freedom  of  the  press.1  Nor  did  he  relish  the  fact 
that  such  a  journal  found  so  many  eager  readers  in  St. 
Louis  and  in  the  State  at  large.  It  was  an  alarming 
symptom  of  what  was  going  on  hidden  from  the  public 
view. 

He  also  wisely  and  firmly  corrected  all  illegal  assump 
tion  of  power  on  the  part  of  his  subordinates.  Some 
1  Moore's  Reb.  Rec.,  Vol.  VIII,  D.  of  E.,  pp.  56,  67. 


320        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

district  commanders  had  assumed  the  right  of  forming 
sub-provost-marshal  districts,  and  of  appointing  as 
sistant  provost  marshals.  They  were  true,  patriotic 
men.  Unquestionably  they  meant  to  do  exactly  right. 
But  unwittingly  they  had  transcended  their  powers. 
So  by  an  order  issued  April  9th,  the  general  called 
their  attention  to  this  unwarrantable  usurpation  of 
authority,  and  put  a  stop  to  it.1  He  knew  that  he  was 
called  to  cope  with  a  foe  burrowing  in  every  part  of  the 
State,  and  so  far  as  possible  must  know  every  subordinate 
officer,  and  must  hold  firmly  in  his  own  hand  all  the 
lines  of  authority.  He  felt  that  such  unification  of 
power  alone  could  preserve  the  State  from  the  grasp  of 
a  secret,  ubiquitous  foe. 

While  the  great  mass  of  our  fellow-citizens  were  not 
acquainted  with  the  facts  that  were  already  in  possession 
of  our  commander,  rumors  of  a  secret  organization  of 
the  disloyal  began  to  get  abroad.  This  was  just  enough 
to  fire  the  popular  imagination,  and  to  keep  the  people 
standing  on  tiptoe  and  craning  their  necks  for  news. 
And  while  filled  with  apprehension,  they  were  not  a 
little  disturbed  by  seeing  the  troops  that  had  been 
faithfully  guarding  our  city  sent  elsewhere.  The  master 
ful  campaign  of  Grant  in  Virginia  had  begun.  The 
general-in-chief  and  his  great  lieutenants,  Sherman 
and  Canby,  were  all  clamorous  for  soldiers,  and  each 
in  turn  urgently  pressed  General  Rosecrans  to  send  them 
regiments  from  our  State  and  city.  He  generously 
responded  to  these  calls,  until  he  had  sent  them  nearly 
all  of  the  troops  in  and  around  St.  Louis.2  When  still 
further  pressed  for  recruits  by  the  generals  in  the  field, 
knowing,  as  they  did  not,  the  powerful  hostile  secret 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol  XXXIV,  P.  3,  p.  107. 

2  W.  K.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  pp.  42,  62,  107. 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  321 

organization  intrenched  in  every  part  of  our  State,  he 
pathetically  pleaded  that  he  could  not  safely  spare  any 
more;  that  he  must  not  abandon,  but  must  protect, 
the  loyal  citizens  in  the  various  counties  of  our  common 
wealth,  who  remained  unflinchingly  true  to  the  Union 
while  confronted  with  manifold  perils.  Grant,  under 
estimating  our  dangers  and  needs,  and  intent  on 
his  great  work,  accused  Rosecrans  of  acting  in  violation 
of  orders;  but  later  he  softened  his  accusation  by 
merely  declaring  that  in  his  judgment  Rosecrans  might 
have  granted  what  he  asked  without  so  much  corre 
spondence.1  One  marked  fault  of  our  general  was  his 
great  proneness  to  irritating  disputation.  Nevertheless 
both  of  these  patriotic  generals  were  doing  their  level 
best.  But  we  must  bear  in  mind  this  denuding  our 
city  of  troops,  if  we  would  justly  appreciate  the  adminis 
tration  of  General  Rosecrans,  and  fully  understand  the 
events  that  soon  followed. 

As  early  as  March  ugly  rumors  were  flying  about  the 
city  that  small  roving  bands  of  guerrillas  and  bush 
whackers  had  begun  to  appear  in  various  parts  of  the 
State.  Information  concerning  this  daily  became  more 
definite.  On  the  3d  of  April,  a  lieutenant-colonel  of  the 
61st  enrolled  Missouri  militia  reported  from  Columbia  that 
rebel  officers  and  guerrillas  had  been  coming  into  that 
region  from  the  South  and  that  they  were  re-enforced 
from  Illinois.  That  patriotic  Illinois  was  taking  a 
hand  in  this  clandestine,  hostile  invasion  seemed  to  the 
uninitiated  incredible.  But  the  announcement  was 
unequivocal,  and  the  invaders  were  reported  as  oper 
ating  in  small  squads,  robbing  and  pillaging  in  all 
directions.  The  disloyal  in  that  part  of  the  State, 
stirred  to  wrath  on  account  of  the  enlistment  of  negroes 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  pp.  381,  416. 


322        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

in  the  army  and  the  prospect  of  a  draft,  were  re 
ceiving  these  desperadoes  hospitably.  And  along  with 
these  specific  reports  of  devastation  there  was  a 
persistent  rumor  that  Price  was  coming  with  a  large 
army.1 

In  the  latter  part  of  April  it  was  declared  that  the 
rebels  had  planned  to  send  into  northern  Missouri  two 
brigades  of  cavalry  and  two  of  mounted  infantry;  and 
into  the  region  about  Rolla  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
State  a  column  of  guerrillas,  together  with  the  Confederate 
Seventh  Missouri  Regiment,  to  act  in  conjunction  with 
some  conspirators'  organization2  of  whose  existence 
and  character  the  public  at  large  had  received  only  an 
inkling.  At  the  same  time  it  was  reported  that  three 
Confederate  colonels,  with  over  a  hundred  armed  men, 
were  on  their  way  to  northern  Missouri  and  that  most 
of  these  men  were  recruiting  officers  of  the  rebel  army.3 
We  began  to  apprehend  that  the  quietude  that  we  had 
felt  and  in  which  we  had  prematurely  rejoiced  was  only 
the  stillness  that  precedes  the  fierce  tornado.  On  the 
last  day  of  April  it  was  announced  that  rebel  raids  from 
the  South  into  the  central  part  of  the  State  had  begun, 
and  that  many  of  the  citizens  of  Boonville,  alarmed  by 
these  reports,  were  fleeing  from  their  homes.  Four  days 
after,  companies  of  Confederate  cavalry,  numbering 
from  one  to  three  hundred,  were  reported  as  advancing 
towards  our  State  from  the  southwest,  and,  what  was 
still  more  astounding  and  bewildering,  it  was  rumored 
that  there  were  rebel  organizations  in  Illinois,  and  that 
Quantrell,  with  eight  hundred  men,  was  below  Quincy 
between  the  Illinois  and  Mississippi  Rivers.  Of  the 

*  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  p.  30. 

2  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  pp.  197,  232,  238,  283,  344,  381. 

3  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  pp.  283,  364. 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  323 

truth  of  this,  Rosecrans  was  convinced,  because  he 
declared  that  he  hoped  to  bring  "  these  conspirators 
and  raiders  to  grief."1  On  the  4th  of  May  from  eight 
to  twelve  hundred  rebels  were  seen  on  Grand  River, 
west  of  Neosho.2  Rumors  multiplied.  Marmaduke 
with  eleven  hundred  men  was  observed  going  toward 
Missouri.3  Officers  of  the  army  on  watch  in  the  interior 
were  persuaded  that  the  State  would  be  soon  invaded 
by  a  powerful  force.4  Before  the  middle  of  June  this 
became  clear  to  all.  Reports  of  guerrillas  drifting  in 
from  the  South  came  from  all  parts  of  the  State,5  coupled 
with  the  rumor  that  Price  and  his  veteran  host  would 
soon  be  upon  us. 

And  what  in  the  meantime  were  these  invaders 
doing?  They  were  endeavoring  with  but  scant  success 
to  secure  recruits  for  the  Confederate  army.  Their 
campaign  had  been  shrewdly  planned.  They  were  in 
all  parts  of  the  commonwealth.  They  made  their  appeal 
to  every  one  in  sympathy  with  the  rebellion.  Every 
able-bodied  man  disloyal  at  heart  had  a  chance  now 
to  show  his  colors,  to  come  out  into  the  open  and  enlist 
in  the  Confederate  army. 

But  at  this  supreme  moment  most  of  them  thought 
it  imprudent  so  to  do.  The  Federal  officers  had  never 
been  so  alert  as  now.  Every  concerted  rebel  movement 
in  their  respective  districts  was  unerringly  detected  by 
them  and  at  once  checkmated.  Every  nest  of  seces 
sionists  was  broken  up.  In  every  place  the  disloyal 
seemed  to  be  in  the  grasp  of  an  iron  hand.  They  did 
not  know  that  Rosecrans  had  in  his  possession  all  the 
facts  in  reference  to  their  secret  conspiracy,  and  that 
through  his  able  and  efficient  subordinates,  he  was 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  p.  416.         2  P.  443. 
3  P.  574.        *  P.  626.        6  P.  4,  pp.  216,  233,  277. 


324        A  Border  City^in  the  Civil  War 

succeeding  even  beyond  his  expectations  in  holding  it 
in  check. 

Still,  his  success  was  not  complete;  for  while  most  of 
the  disloyal  of  the  State  refused  to  enroll  themselves  as 
Confederate  soldiers,  they  struck  hands  with  their 
friends  from  the  South  in  gathering  commissary  stores 
for  the  rebel  army  and  especially  for  that  part  of  it 
which  was  expected  soon  to  appear  within  our  borders. 
They  regarded  the  property  of  Union  men  as  legitimate 
plunder;  so  they  gave  themselves  to  pillage.  Since 
these  marauders  were  scattered  in  small  bands  all  over 
the  State  beyond  the  immediate  vicinity  of  St.  Louis, 
it  was  impossible  for  our  soldiers,  however  vigilant  and 
alert,  to  defend  against  them  the  property  of  all 
Unionists.  So  they  robbed  here  and  plundered  there,1 
and  in  each  case  were  quickly  gone,  no  one  knew  where. 
Many  of  them,  to  be  sure,  came  to  grief.  Some  were 
taken  prisoners;  some  were  shot  or  hung;  but  most  of 
them  escaped  to  rob  the  defenceless,  and  to  make  night 
lurid  with  burning  farmhouses  and  barns. 

If  the  depredators  had  confined  themselves  to  plunder 
and  arson,  this  orgy  of  lawlessness  would  happily  have 
lacked  its  darkest  colors.  But  they  were  joined  by  bush 
whackers.  These  by  birth  or  adoption  were  Missourians. 
They  knew  every  Union  man  in  their  respective  neigh 
borhoods.  They  piloted  the  invaders  to  the  homes  of 
the  loyal,  that  they  might  seize  upon  what  they  con 
sidered  their  rightful  prey.  Many  of  them  wore  the 
uniform  of  United  States  soldiers,2  that  they  might 
deceive  the  Unionists.  They  had  many  grudges  that 
they  determined  to  feed  fat.  So  to  robbery  was  often 
added  murder,  cold-blooded,  dastardly  murder.  All 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  4,  pp.  216,  233,  277. 

2  W.  B.  S.  1,  Vol.  XXXIV,  P.  3,  p.  351. 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  325 

over  Missouri,  wherever  these  assassins,  clothed  in  the 
loyal  blue,  dared  to  go,  they  shot  down  Union  men. 
Many  of  these  atrocities  were  unspeakably  revolting. 
A  bushwhacker  rode  up  to  the  door  of  a  peaceable  old 
man,  and  asked  for  a  drink  of  water.  Whether  the 
man  regarded  the  thirsty  traveller  as  a  friend  or  enemy 
was  never  known;  at  all  events,  he  brought  him  a  cup 
of  cold  water,  which  he  drank  and  then,  handing  back 
the  cup,  shot  his  benefactor  dead.  Not  because  he  had 
previously  injured  him  or  any  one  else,  but  solely  because 
amid  many  perils  he  had  been  a  true  Union  man. 

The  leader  of  a  band  of  guerrillas,  by  the  name  of 
Anderson,  ordered  his  gang  to  shoot  into,  and  stop,  a 
train  of  cars  on  the  North  Missouri  Railroad.  In  one 
of  the  coaches  he  found  twenty-two  unarmed  United 
States  soldiers  that,  on  account  of  sickness,  had  been 
furloughed.  They  were  on  their  way  to  their  homes  and 
loved  ones.  He  ordered  them  all  out  of  the  car,  robbed 
them,  stood  them  in  a  row  and  shot  them.  Some  of 
the  bodies  he  scalped,  others  he  put  across  the  track 
and  ran  the  engine  over  them.  He  afterwards  attacked 
a  hundred  and  twenty  men  of  the  39th  Missouri  Volun 
teer  Infantry,  and  having  stampeded  their  horses,  shot 
every  one  of  them  in  cold  blood.  A  few  days  later  he 
was  recognized  by  General  Price  as  a  Confederate 
captain,  and  with  the  gentle  admonition  that  he  must 
behave  himself,  was  sent  out  to  destroy  railroads.1 

But  this  carnage  went  on.  It  was  the  culmination 
of  horrors  in  Missouri.  All  the  barbarism  that  had 
gone  before  was  now  eclipsed.  No  other  State  of  the 
South  was  so  harried  by  lawless,  irresponsible  armed 
men.  They  did  not  wage  war,  and  were  entitled  to  none 
of  the  amenities  of  war  as  conducted  by  civilized  nations. 

1  W.  R.  S.  1,  Vol.  XLI,  P.  1,  p.  309. 


326        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

In  St.  Louis  we  were  as  yet  safe.  But  we  breakfasted 
and  supped  on  horrors.  Our  hearts  bled  for  our  suffering 
brethren  in  the  State.  We  did  what  we  could  to  help 
them;  but  we  were  able  to  effect  very  little.  The  per 
sistent  rumors  that  a  large  army  of  invaders  would 
soon  sweep  into  our  State  from  the  South  made  us 
apprehensive  that  there  might  at  no  distant  day  be 
fighting  at  our  own  gates. 

At  last  these  rumors  of  invasion  were  followed  by  the 
ingress  of  a  veteran  rebel  force  under  the  command  of 
General  Price.  They  came  up  from  Arkansas.  On  the 
24th  of  September,  General  Shelby,  one  of  Price's 
division  commanders,  with  five  thousand  men  and 
several  pieces  of  artillery,  was  reported  as  just  south  of 
Pilot  Knob,  about  eighty-five  miles  from  St.  Louis. 
It  was  the  vanguard  of  an  army  of  at  least  fifteen 
thousand  men. 

Excitement  ran  high  among  us.  We  had  no  force 
at  all  adequate  to  our  protection.  As  we  have  already 
seen,  most  of  the  soldiers  in  and  around  St.  Louis  had 
been  sent  to  the  front.  Of  this  state  of  things,  the  rebel 
general  had  undoubtedly  been  informed.  He  expected 
to  capture  our  city,  and,  comparatively  defenceless  as 
we  were,  we  thought  that  his  expectation  would  probably 
be  realized ;  at  all  events,  we  could  not  see  why  it  should 
not  be.  Still  we  all  deeply  felt  that  we  must  do  our 
utmost  to  save  that  for  which  we  had  so  successfully 
contended  for  more  than  three  years. 

Days  before,  when  rumors  of  this  invasion  filled  the 
air,  and  evidences  multiplied  that  rumor  would  soon 
be  transmuted  into  reality,  at  the  earnest  solicitation 
of  our  general,  the  military  authorities  at  Washington 
had  halted  at  Cairo,  General  A.  J.  Smith,  with  about 
four  thousand  five  hundred  infantry,  when  on  his  way 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  327 

to  join  General  Sherman,  and  ordered  him  to  turn  back 
and  assist  Rosecrans  in  defending  Missouri  against  the 
hostile  forces  of  Price.  To  our  great  relief  he  came  up 
to  St.  Louis,  knowing  full  well  that  our  city  was  the 
coveted  prize  and  the  objective  point  of  the  invading 
army.  He  wisely  determined  to  stand,  with  his  brave 
soldiers,  between  our  comparatively  defenceless  city 
and  the  invaders  when  they  should  appear  on  our  soil. 

But  he  was  not  our  only  defence.  When  the  invading 
rebels  were  reported  as  being  in  the  southern  part  of 
the  State  all  the  Home  Guards  of  St.  Louis  were  called 
out.  Their  whole  strength  was  from  four  to  five  thousand 
men,  none  of  whom  had  ever  been  under  fire.  Under 
the  best  officers  that  could  be  secured  they  were  daily 
drilled.  Moreover,  some  one  hundred  days'  volunteers, 
then  in  Illinois,  who  had  more  than  served  out  their 
time,  with  great  alacrity  and  generosity  came  to  our 
support,  but  refused  under  the  circumstances  to  go 
beyond  the  city.  They  were  willing  to  fight  there  on 
the  defensive,  but  were  unwilling  to  join  in  an  offensive 
campaign,  which  might  require  long  and  perhaps 
forced  marches.  We  could  not  blame  them,  and  were 
glad  that  they  stood  ready  with  us  to  defend  our  city 
if  it  should  be  attacked. 

Now,  with  such  force  as  was  at  hand  the  defensive 
campaign  began.  General  Ewing  was  sent  with  about 
fifteen  hundred  men,  half  of  whom  were  raw  recruits, 
to  Pilot  Knob.  He  was  ordered  to  hold  that  position 
until  he  found  out  as  nearly  as  possible  the  number  of 
the  invading  army.  He  was  an  able,  gallant  soldier, 
and  we  knew  that  he  would  do  his  utmost  to  carry  out 
the  command  of  his  chief. 

At  the  same  time,  General  Smith  marched'  with  his 
division  of  infantry  in  the  direction  of  Pilot  Knob. 


328        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

His  movement  was  noted  by  Price,  who,  wishing  to 
prevent  him  from  uniting  his  force  with  that  of  General 
Ewing,  sent  General  Shelby  to  oppose  him  and  if  possible 
check  his  advance.  General  Smith,  having  discovered 
that  the  enemy  was  moving  west  and  north,  was  ordered 
to  keep  between  the  rebel  force  and  St.  Louis;  so  he 
retired  behind  the  Meramec,  a  little  river  a  few  miles 
south  of  our  city. 

In  the  meantime,  full  of  anxiety,  we  at  St.  Louis 
waited  for  tidings  from  General  Ewing.  Hours  seemed 
to  be  days,  and  days  weeks.  At  last  the  thrilling  news 
came.  Ewing,  after  using  part  of  his  troops  to  guard 
a  portion  of  the  Iron  Mountain  Railroad,  with  a  thousand 
men  took  his  stand  at  Fort  Davidson,  a  small  field  work 
in  a  valley  surrounded  by  hills.  It  commanded  the 
opening  between  the  mountains  through  which  Price 
had  determined  to  pass.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
September  27th,  he  was  terrifically  assaulted  by  the 
invaders.  While  half  of  his  thousand  troops  were 
undisciplined  volunteers,  he  pluckily  held  his  ground, 
repulsing  the  attacking  army  and  killing  and  wounding 
fifteen  hundred  of  them;  while  his  own  loss  in  killed, 
wounded  and  missing  was  only  two  hundred  and  fifty. 
A  part  of  this  number  in  the  desperate  fighting  of  the 
day  had  been  taken  prisoners  and  soon  after  were 
paroled.  The  general  had  triumphantly  accomplished 
his  object.  He  had  developed  the  fact  that  the  whole 
of  Price's  army  was  in  the  State,  and  for  a  whole  day  he 
had  confronted  and  fought  all  of  it  except  Shelby's 
division. 

The  enemy,  towards  evening,  had  gained  the  slopes 
of  the  adjacent  mountains  and  were  planting  batteries 
there  which  would  command  the  fort  that  Ewing  had 
so  tenaciously  and  gallantly  held.  Fully  eight  thousand 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  329 

five  hundred  men  with  ten  pieces  of  artillery  were  pre 
pared  to  attack  him  in  the  morning.  His  position  was 
no  longer  tenable.  He  therefore  spiked  his  big  guns, 
blew  up  his  magazine,  destroyed  as  far  as  he  was  able 
the  supplies  that  he  could  not  carry  away,  and  with  his 
field  battery  and  what  remained  of  his  command 
retreated  under  the  cover  of  darkness  toward  the  Mer- 
amec  valley.  When  his  absence  was  discovered,  the 
enemy  pursued  and  greatly  harassed  him  and  his  small 
intrepid  army.  The  only  wonder  is  that  his  whole 
command  was  not  captured  or  destroyed;  but  he  got 
upon  a  ridge  of  land  between  two  creeks,  and  so  was 
able,  as  he  marched  rapidly  on,  to  repulse  again  and  again 
the  pursuing  forces.  He  reached  at  last  Harrison 
Station,  a  little  more  than  a  day's  march  from  our  city. 
Here  he  hastily  occupied  and  extended  some  earthworks 
that  had  been  thrown  up  by  a  regiment  of  militia, 
and  with  his  raw  troops,  now  become  a  Spartan  band, 
withstood  the  assaulting  army  for  thirty-six  hours, 
when  he  was  re-enforced  by  a  detachment  of  cavalry. 
The  enemy  now  withdrew.  Ewing  and  his  brave  men 
escaped  to  Holla. 

We  were  soon  in  possession  of  all  the  facts.  A  great 
burden  was  lifted  from  our  hearts.  The  well-earned  fame 
of  Ewing  and  his  dauntless  little  army  floated  on  the 
lips  of  the  multitude.  But  why  Price  did  not  take  St. 
Louis  was  to  us  all  an  inscrutable  mystery.  He  could 
have  done  so.  He  came  for  that  very  purpose,  and 
yet  passed  by  us  to  the  west  and  north.  He  was  a 
cautious  general;  as  we  have  before  observed,  he  never 
wished  to  attack  unless  he  felt  quite  sure  of  victory. 
And  like  most  overcautious  commanders,  he  over 
estimated  the  strength  of  his  enemy.  We  know  now, 
what  we  did  not  then,  that  he  sent  a  spy  to  our  city, 


330        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

one  in  whose  judgment  he  placed  the  utmost  confidence, 
who  reported  to  him  that  we  had  for  our  defence  two 
soldiers  to  his  one.  How  that  spy  could  have  been  so 
deceived  is  still  an  unsolved  riddle.  Price  had  almost 
two  soldiers  to  our  one.  His  soldiers  were  veterans; 
ours  to  a  great  extent  were  raw  and  undisciplined. 
With  a  little  resolute,  hard  fighting  he  could  have 
seized  the  prize  which  he  and  his  troops  so  intensely 
coveted.  But  the  God  of  nations  and  battles,  who 
holds  in  his  hand  the  hearts  of  kings  and  generals,  had 
graciously  decreed  otherwise. 

It  would  be  aside  from  my  object  to  present  in  detail 
the  events  which  belong  to  this  invasion  of  our  State. 
When  we  saw  that  the  rebel  general  had  evidently 
abandoned  the  purpose  of  attacking  St.  Louis  its  loyal 
inhabitants  felt  the  intensest  satisfaction.  We  now 
saw  with  increasing  delight  that  the  distance  between 
the  invaders  and  our  city  was  daily  growing  greater; 
that  General  Price,  overestimating  the  number  of 
Union  troops  at  Jefferson  City,  just  as  he  had  at  St. 
Louis,  passed  on  to  the  west  and  north,  leaving  the 
State  capital  unharmed.  Soon  the  scattered  detachments 
of  Federal  troops  began  to  concentrate  in  his  rear,  and 
he  hastened  his  march.  Near  the  western  border  of 
the  State,  Union  troops  from  Kansas  joined  in  the  pur 
suit.  Now  in  every  battle  the  rebel  forces  met  with 
defeat,  and  were  soon  driven  from  southwest  Missouri 
into  Arkansas,  never  more  to  return.  This  was  the  last 
invasion  of  our  State. 

But  in  this  invasion  the  rebel  general  was  in  some 
ways  largely  successful.  He  killed  and  wounded  very 
many  of  our  troops.  During  this  campaign,  though  it 
lasted  only  a  few  days,  there  were  more  than  forty 
skirmishes  and  about  fifteen  battles,  some  of  them  of 


A  Dark  Plot  Thwarted  331 

considerable  dimensions.  Many  places,  either  utterly 
without  defence,  or  inadequately  defended,  were  tem 
porarily  occupied,  and  plundered.  Houses  of  Union 
men  were  burned.  Railroad  tracks  were  torn  up,  and 
the  rails  twisted  and  destroyed.  Bridges,  depots  and 
warehouses  were  reduced  to  ashes.  Horses,  mules  and 
wagons  in  large  numbers  were  carried  away.  Vast 
quantities  of  commissary  stores  were  ruthlessly  gathered 
for  the  Confederate  army.  Price,  in  his  report  of  this 
campaign,  claims  that  he  destroyed  full  ten  million 
dollars  worth  of  property.  Perhaps  that  is  an  exag 
geration  ;  but  he  marched  by  a  circuitous  route  from  one 
end  of  our  State  to  the  other,  devastating  a  strip  of 
territory  about  twenty  miles  wide. 

He,  to  be  sure,  lost  heavily.  Ten  pieces  of  his  artillery, 
two  stand  of  colors,  large  numbers  of  wagons,  mules 
and  small  arms,  and  nearly  two  thousand  prisoners 
were  captured  by  the  Federals.  Many  of  his  men  were 
slain  in  battle.  He  had  also  been  compelled  in  his 
flight  to  burn  very  many  of  the  wagons  that  he  had 
confiscated,  and  to  destroy  much  of  his  ill-gotten 
plunder. 

Moreover,  he  had  utterly  failed,  politically.  He 
anticipated  the  uprising  of  the  "  Order  of  American 
Knights,"  fully  twenty-five  thousand  in  number,  and 
that  most  of  them  would  join  his  army;  he  also  expected 
to  take  St.  Louis  and  swing  our  State  into  the  Southern 
Confederacy;  march  into  Illinois,  where,  re-enforced 
by  the  one  hundred  fifty  thousand  Knights  of  that 
State,  and  greeted  by  the  Knights  from  Indiana  and 
Ohio,  with  Vallandigham  at  their  head,  he  hoped  to 
establish  a  Northwestern  Confederacy  and  put  a  stop 
to  the  war,  which  was  being  waged  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  Union.  But  divine  Providence  had  decreed  that 


332       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

this  audacious  scheme  of  rebels  and  copperheads  should 
never  be  realized.  The  effort  to  make  the  airy  fabric 
of  that  dream  a  reality  had  been  attended  with  devasta 
tion,  misery  and  blood,  and  had  ended  in  inglorious 
defeat. 

But  one  sad  outcome  of  the  devastating  march  of 
Price's  army  was  patent  to  every  eye.  Before  it  Union 
men  with  their  families  fled  for  their  lives.  Many  of 
them  hastily  left  their  homes  at  night,  lighted  on  their 
way  by  their  flaming  houses.  Avoiding  their  pillaging 
foes,  they  made  their  way  to  St.  Louis.  They  came  in 
great  numbers,  and  like  the  refugees  that  preceded  them, 
were  kindly  received  and  abundantly  cared  for.1 

1  W.  B.  S.  l,Vol.  XLI,  P.  1,  pp.  307-340. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

NEGRO    SCHOOLS 

BEFORE  the  last  invasion  of  our  State  by  Price, 
a  few  of  us  became  deeply  interested  in  the  educa 
tion  of  the  colored  children  of  our  city.  No  public 
school  was  open  to  them.  Although  the  negroes  of 
St.  Louis  owned  taxable  property,  assessed  year  by  year 
at  a  valuation  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars,  and 
had  long  paid  annually  no  inconsiderable  school  tax, 
it  had  been  used  for  the  education  of  white  children 
alone.  This  rank  injustice,  one  of  the  many  shameful 
wrongs  of  chattel  slavery,  led  the  colored  people  to 
establish  in  different  parts  of  the  city  a  few  private 
schools  for  the  education  of  their  own  children.  By 
the  flocking  of  contrabands  into  St.  Louis  the  demand 
for  colored  schools  had  steadily  grown  more  imperative. 
But  these  schools,  founded  and  conducted  by  colored 
teachers,  were  of  a  very  low  grade.  They  were  worthy 
of  hearty  commendation,  as  earnest  efforts  on  the  part 
of  those  who,  though  brought  up  in  ignorance,  desired 
better  things  for  their  children  than  they  themselves  had 
known.  This  ignorance  yearning  for  knowledge,  this 
stretching  out  of  black  hands  toward  the  light,  was  an 
appeal  too  eloquent  to  be  resisted.  A  goodly  company 
of  us  determined  to  do  what  we  could  to  lay  the  foun 
dation  for  the  future  education  of  our  colored  popula 
tion.  It  was  already  pretty  clear  that  they  were  to  be 


334       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

enfranchised  citizens,  and  would  need  greater  intelli 
gence  to  enable  them  to  discharge  creditably  their 
obligations  to  the  community  and  the  State. 

We  saw  at  a  glance  what  they  needed  was  better 
schools  and  more  of  them.  Larger  and  more  cleanly 
rooms,  more  and  better  elementary  books,  and  above  all 
more  thoroughly  trained  teachers  were  absolutely  neces 
sary  in  order  to  secure  results  even  moderately  satis 
factory.  To  accomplish  this,  two  things  were  demanded, 
money  and  self-sacrificing  workers.  The  first  could  not 
be  obtained  from  the  public  treasury.  While  the  law 
compelled  thrifty  blacks  to  pay  a  school  tax,  it  for 
bade  the  use  of  a  cent  of  it  in  educating  black  children. 
We  and  they  had  to  bow  before  the  majesty  of  the  law. 
The  only  resort  left  us  was  private  charity.  But  this 
did  not  fail  us.  The  negro  property  holders  not  only 
cheerfully  paid  the  school  tax  for  the  education  of  white 
children,  but  also  generously  contributed  from  their 
limited  incomes  to  sustain  the  private  schools  for  colored 
children.  And  loyal  whites,  who,  from  the  beginning 
of  the  war,  had  nobly  responded  to  a  multitude  of 
appeals  for  charity,  by  their  bountiful  gifts  helped  on 
this  new  educational  enterprise,  while  a  company  of 
men  and  women  came  forward  with  alacrity  to  do  the 
necessary  work  involved  in  this  philanthropic  project. 
They  met  with  and  counselled  the  colored  school  board; 
solicited  and  collected  money;  secured  the  donation  of 
the  necessary  furnishings  for  the  schoolrooms  and  the 
books  and  simple  apparatus  required ;  encouraged  pupils 
to  attend  the  schools  and  inspirited  teachers  when  in 
their  new  and  difficult  work  their  hearts  began  to  fail 
them. 

I  was  chosen  to  examine  the  colored  applicants  for 
positions  as  teachers.  In  the  months  of  September  and 


Negro  Schools  335 

October,  I  spent  six  half  days  in  the  work  of  examina 
tion.  It  was  a  difficult  task.  These  aspirants  for  the 
responsible  office  of  teacher  knew  accurately  very  little. 
The  superintendent  of  our  city  schools  furnished  me 
with  the  questions  to  be  asked.  But  these  questions 
were  framed  for  white  teachers  of  larger  knowledge  and 
greater  discipline  and  were  quite  unfit  for  my  purpose; 
however,  being  required  to  use  them,  I  did  my  best  in 
Saul's  armor. 

During  the  war  the  price  of  gold  in  New  York  was 
quoted  in  every  daily  paper.  It  was  one  dollar  and 
forty  cents  or  one  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents  or  two 
dollars  and  twenty-five  cents,  that  is,  it  took  so  much  in 
paper  currency  to  buy  one  dollar  in  gold.  One  of  the 
questions  designated  for  these  examinations  was:"  What 
is  the  leading  industry  of  New  York?  "  referring  of  course 
to  the  State  of  New  York.  It  was  a  rather  difficult 
question  for  any  one  to  answer.  I  gave  it  to  a  bright- 
looking  colored  girl,  as  a  part  of  her  examination.  Her 
answer  was,  "Buying  and  selling  gold." 

Out  of  the  fourteen  that  I  examined,  male  and 
female,  I  found  four  that  showed  that  they  were  tolerably 
well-prepared  for  their  duties  as  primary  teachers  and 
they  acquitted  themselves  very  well  in  the  schoolroom. 

Our  schools  flourished.  Most  of  the  pupils  learned 
rapidly.  The  number  of  them  multiplied.  Soon  our 
room  was  insufficient.  From  time  to  time  we  added 
other  schools,  and  succeeded  with  small  means  in  doing 
a  great,  beneficent  work. 

We  finally  carried  our  case  to  the  School  Board  of  the 
city.  We  went  with  faint  hearts.  In  a  community 
accustomed  to  slave  laws,  which  public  opinion  had 
heartily  sustained,  we  were  to  ask  the  great  boon  of 
public  schools  for  those  who  by  legislative  enactment 


336        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

had  been  long  kept  in  ignorance.  Moreover,  the  char 
acter  of  the  men  before  whom  we  were  to  plead  the 
cause  of  the  negro  made  us  hesitate.  Most  of  them 
were  what  were  then  called  Bourbon  Democrats,  who, 
it  was  declared,  never  learned  anything  nor  forgot  any 
thing,  and  a  majority  of  the  Board  were  Roman  Catho 
lics.  What  could  we  expect  men  of  that  kind  to  do  for 
the  servile  and  despised  race  among  us?  We  were 
ushered  into  their  presence.  With  warm  hearts  we  began 
to  state  our  case.  We  criminated  nobody.  We  spoke 
earnestly  and  tenderly  for  the  wronged  and  neglected. 
We  were  wonderfully  cheered  when  we  saw  that  those 
whom  we  addressed  were  all  eye  and  all  ear.  They 
intently  looked  us  in  the  face,  they  seemed  unwilling 
to  lose  a  single  word  that  fell  from  our  lips.  The 
injustice  that  we  pointed  out  was  so  rank  that  all  their 
hearts  were  touched.  Without  a  dissenting  voice  they 
declared  that  the  great  wrong  must  be  righted;  that 
the  children  of  the  men  who  paid  a  school  tax  must 
share  in  its  benefits. 

But,  just  as  we  expected,  they  affirmed  that  they 
could  do  nothing  for  the  colored  children  under  the 
existing  law;  but  unsolicited  they  pledged  themselves 
to  petition  the  next  legislature  for  a  law  that  would 
enable  them  to  provide  school  buildings,  books,  ap 
paratus,  and  teachers  for  the  black  children,  and  to 
support  these  schools,  just  as  the  schools  for  white 
children  are  maintained,  by  the  public  school  funds. 
They  were  as  good  as  their  word.  The  legislature  to 
which  they  appealed  was  mainly  made  up  of  men  of 
radical,  progressive  views,  and  what  was  asked  was 
enthusiastically  granted.  The  school  buildings  for 
colored  children  were  put  up  and  all  that  could  make 
these  schools  most  highly  efficient  was  liberally  pro- 


Negro  Schools  337 

vided.  The  negro  question  for  Missouri  was  solved  in 
this  high-minded,  philanthropic  way,  and  the  solution 
was  unstained  by  partisanship  or  demagogism ;  and  in 
it  we  saw  the  grand  fruition  of  our  toil  on  behalf  of  a 
few  private  negro  schools. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

AFTER  DARKNESS   LIGHT 

IN  the  beginning  of  the  autumn  of  1864  the  Unionists 
of  St.  Louis  were  sadly  disheartened.  They  had  not 
been  so  hopeless  since  the  war  began.  Men  were  unable 
to  give  any  rational  explanation  of  their  discouragement. 
It  probably  arose  from  a  combination  of  untoward 
events.  Grant  and  Sherman  had  begun  their  great 
campaigns  in  Virginia  and  Georgia.  Some  hard  battles 
had  been  fought  but  no  very  decisive  victories  had  yet 
been  gained.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  renominated  for 
the  Presidency,  but  without  the  triumph  of  our  arms 
his  election  seemed  to  us  somewhat  doubtful.  For  the 
opposing  candidate  the  Democrats  had  nominated 
General  McClellan,  who  had  many  enthusiastic  followers. 
In  their  platform  they  had  declared  the  war  a  failure. 
The  existence  of  "  The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle," 
their  great  numbers  in  several  States  of  the  Middle  West 
and  their  ardent  support  of  the  Democratic  candidate 
had  become  quite  generally  known.  Such  an  array 
of  antagonistic  forces  seemed  to  many  of  the  loyal  in  our 
city,  wearied  with  the  long  and  costly  conflict  for  the 
Union,  to  betoken  possible  defeat. 

In  this  too  general  gloom  I  could  not  share.  With 
other  optimistic  souls  I  felt  sure  of  ultimate  victory. 
It  was  my  duty,  therefore,  to  impart  so  far  as  possible 
my  confidence  to  others;  so  I  preached  to  a  full  house 


After  Darkness  Light  339 

from  the  text:  "Think  not  that  I  came  to  send  peace 
on  the  earth;  I  came  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword." 
The  press  asked  for  my  sermon  and  gave  it  to  a  far 
greater  number  than  those  who  heard  it.  Its  closing 
passage  enshrines  the  spirit  and  stress  of  that  day. 

"  There  are  those,  however,  who  cry  out  for  peace. 
Who  does  not  desire  it?  Have  we  not  had  enough  of 
fratricidal  strife?  Yes,  verily.  Has  not  enough  blood 
been  shed?  Yes,  a  thousand  fold  more  than  ought  to 
have  flowed.  Have  we  not  had  enough  of  lamentation 
and  tears?  Let  the  Rachels  who  weep  for  their  children, 
and  refuse  to  be  comforted,  answer.  He  has  a  stone  for 
a  heart  who,  looking  on  the  desolations  of  war,  does  not 
sigh  for  peace.  But  peace  at  what  price?  At  the  price 
of  truth?  Shall  we  for  the  sake  of  peace  give  up  the 
principle  that  good  government  must  be  obeyed?  Shall 
we  tamely  abandon  the  truth  that  all  men  are  equal 
in  God's  sight,  and  have  a  right  to  the  product  of  their 
own  labor?  Shall  we  timidly  assent  to  the  tyrannical 
doctrine  that  the  normal  condition  of  a  portion  of  our 
race  is  slavery?  We  cannot  purchase  peace  at  so  great 
cost.  God  giving  us  strength,  we  never  will.  Let  our 
wives  be  widows  and  our  children  orphans;  let  them  beg 
their  bread  from  door  to  door;  let  them  die  without 
care  in  almshouses,  and  be  buried  uncoffined  in  the 
potter's  field;  yea,  'let  a  general  conflagration  sweep 
over  the  land,  and  let  an  earthquake  sink  it,'  before  we 
yield  one  rood  of  our  territory  to  those  who,  without 
cause,  lifted  up  the  red  hand  of  rebellion  against  the 
government  of  our  fathers  in  the  interest  of  slavery. 
And  why  all  this?  Because  the  truth  for  which  we 
contend  is  worth  more  than  your  life  or  mine  —  or 
more  than  the  lives  of  a  generation  of  men.  When  peace 
shall  be  obtained  which  is  based  in  righteousness, 


340        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

which  flows  forth  from  justice  established  and  exalted 
in  the  midst  of  the  nation,  which  grants  to  all  classes 
of  men  their  inalienable  rights,  we  will  sing  paeans  of 
joy  over  it;  but  if  we  are  to  have  a  peace  based  on  a 
compromise  with  iniquity,  which  will  be  as  deceptive 
as  the  apples  of  Sodom,  involving  our  children  in  dis 
asters  more  dire  than  those  which  have  befallen  us, 
every  lover  of  truth,  and  justice,  and  good  government 
will  hang  his  head  in  shame.  0,  God,  save  us  in  mercy, 
from  such  a  peace!  Give  us  anything  rather  than  it. 
Grant  us  an  eighty  years'  war  like  that  waged  by  the 
Netherlands,  rather  than  pour  into  our  cup  such  an 
insidious  curse. 

"  Brethren,  be  of  good  cheer.  God  now  goes  before  us 
to  battle,  and  grants  us  victories.  This  is  no  time  for 
fear  and  faltering.  We  must  quit  ourselves  like  men, 
like  Christian  freemen.  This  conflict  is  not  anomalous. 
There  have  been  many  such.  Christ,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
anticipated  it,  and  His  words  coming  across  the  cen 
turies  shall  cheer  us  till  the  last  blow  is  struck,  truth 
vindicated  and  righteousness  immovably  established." 

As  we  approached  November  the  tide  of  public  opinion 
turned  in  favor  of  the  election  of  Mr.  Lincoln  for  a  second 
term.  The  invasion  of  Missouri  had  failed  of  its  object. 
St.  Louis  was  no  longer  threatened  by  her  foes ;  she  was 
now  secure  and  serene.  The  great  secret  political 
organization,  which  aspired  to  destroy  the  Union  and 
defeat  the  second  election  of  the  President,  had  become 
innocuous;  the  fangs  of  the  copperhead  had  been  drawn; 
Grant  with  the  hammer  of  Thor,  over  grass-covered 
fortifications,  wras  steadily  pounding  his  way  towards 
Richmond.  Sherman  had  achieved  brilliant  success  in 
Georgia.  All  things  for  the  cause  of  the  Union  were 
propitious.  Lincoln's  election  was  triumphant.  Great 


After  Darkness  Light  341 

patient  soul,  he  now  knew  that  he  was  enthroned  in 
the  hearts  of  the  people  to  whom  he  was  so  ardently 
devoted. 

In  Missouri  many  were  kept  from  voting  because  they 
could  not  take  the  prescribed  oath  of  allegiance.  On 
that  account  the  result  of  the  election  was  not  the  real 
expression  of  the  judgment  of  the  whole  people;  but 
it  gave  the  most  intense  satisfaction  to  all  radical  Union 
men  of  our  city  and  State.  The  President  received  over 
forty  thousand  majority;  the  unconditional  Union 
candidate  for  Governor,  Thomas  C.  Fletcher,  received 
a  still  heavier  vote.  The  people,  by  more  than  thirty- 
seven  thousand  majority,  declared  themselves  in  favor 
of  another  Convention  and  at  the  same  time  elected  the 
members  of  it,  more  than  three-fourths  of  whom  were 
Charcoals.  The  entire  radical  ticket  for  State  officers 
was  chosen,  and  the  legislature  was  heavily  radical  in 
both  its  branches.  Eight  of  the  nine  candidates  elected 
to  Congress  were  radicals.  In  eighty  of  the  one  hundred 
and  fourteen  counties  of  the  State  the  radical  ticket 
prevailed.  The  loyal  of  our  city  celebrated  this  triumph 
of  unconditional  Unionism  with  unbounded  joy.  They 
rang  the  bells;  kindled  bonfires;  marched  with  torches 
to  martial  music;  sang  patriotic  songs;  and  almost 
split  their  throats  and  the  welkin  with  their  huzzas. 
Well  they  might  do  all  this.  Every  plot  against  the 
Union  had  been  thwarted;  they  held  at  last  firmly 
within  their  grasp  the  prize  for  which  they  had  so  long 
and  patiently  struggled.  The  darkness  had  fled;  the 
light  shone. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

RADICALS   IN   CONVENTION  l 

THE  radicals  for  many  months  had  been  deeply  dis 
satisfied  with  the  conservatism  of  the  old  Convention. 
While  recognizing  its  inestimable  service  in  keeping 
Missouri  in  the  Union,  they  were  strongly  opposed  to 
its  policy  of  gradual,  compensated  emancipation.  They 
clamored  for  a  new  Convention  to  which  this,  and  other 
vitally  important  questions,  should  be  submitted.  So 
many  in  the  State  adopted  and  advocated  their  views 
that  the  legislature  in  February,  1864,  passed  an  act 
creating  and  calling  a  new  Convention  to  meet  in  St. 
Louis  on  January  6th,  1865,  "to  consider,  first,  such 
amendments  to  the  Constitution  of  the  State  as  may  be 
by  them  deemed  necessary  for  the  emancipation  of 
slaves;  second,  such  amendments  to  the  Constitution 
of  the  State  as  may  be  by  them  deemed  necessary  to 
preserve  in  purity  the  elective  franchise  to  loyal  citizens ; 
and  such  other  amendments  as  may  be  by  them  deemed 
essential  to  the  promotion  of  the  public  good." 

At  the  election  in  November,  the  people,  as  we  have 
already  noted,  by  a  decisive  majority,  declared  for  a 
new  Convention  and  elected  delegates  to  it  most  of 
whom  were  radicals.  The  Charcoals  were  at  last  in  the 

1  For  the  facts  of  this  chapter,  aside  from  my  own  personal  obser 
vations,  see  "Journal  of  the  Missouri  State  Convention,  held  at  the 
City  of  St.  Louis,  January  6- April  10,  1865." 


Radicals  in  Convention  343 

saddle.  The  conservatives  were  dispirited;  and  even 
the  more  moderate  radicals  held  their  breath  in  fear  of 
measures  too  extreme  and  impracticable.  But,  whatever 
drawbacks  there  were,  on  the  whole  the  radical  triumph 
was  a  healthful  onward  movement. 

On  January  6th,  1865,  the  Convention  met  in  the 
small  Mercantile  Library  Hall.  There  were  sixty- 
nine  delegates.  More  than  half  of  them  had  been  born 
and  bred  in  slave  States.  Twenty-three  were  natives  of 
the  free  States,  while  ten  were  immigrants  from  Europe, 
chiefly  from  Germany.  Some  of  those  who  were  natives 
of  the  South  had  recently  been  converted  from  their 
pro-slavery  notions  and  were  intent  on  magnifying  their 
new  faith.  They  were  uncompromising  radicals. 

Unlike  the  old  Convention,  there  were  in  this  more 
farmers  than  lawyers,  while  the  medical  profession  was 
as  numerously  represented  as  the  legal;  almost  one- 
fifth  of  the  Convention  were  physicians.  There  were 
also  twelve  merchants,  mostly  from  small  towns  whose 
business  had  never  been  large.  Editors,  clerks,  a  me 
chanic,  a  railroad  agent,  a  law  student,  a  nurseryman, 
a  surveyor,  a  schoolmaster,  and  a  major  of  Missouri 
volunteers  made  up  the  rest. 

In  the  main  the  delegates  were  young.  More  than  a 
third  of  them  were  under  forty,  and  more  than  two- 
thirds  under  fifty;  none  of  them  were  enfeebled  by  age. 
But  a  single  glance  at  them  convinced  any  intelligent 
beholder  that,  taken  as  a  whole,  they  were  in  capacity 
mediocre;  and  most  of  them  b}^  their  occupations  had 
not  been  fitted  to  grapple  with  questions  that  pertained 
to  the  fundamental  law  of  the  State.  The  people  who 
chose  them  had  evidently  not  kept  clearly  in  view  the 
delicate  and  difficult  work  that  they  would  be  called 
upon  to  perform.  To  a  large  extent  passion  and  prej udice 


344       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

born  of  the  hour  had  controlled  the  voters  in  their 
choice  of  delegates.  In  their  anxiety  to  elect  men  who 
were  uncompromisingly  in  favor  of  immediate  emancipa 
tion,  they  had  not  been  sufficiently  careful  in  demanding 
that  they  should  also  be  men  qualified  to  do  their  part 
intelligently  in  reconstructing  the  organic  law  of  the 
commonwealth. 

Moreover,  the  Convention  did  not  fairly  represent 
the  whole  body  of  loyal  men  in  the  State.  Ruling  out 
all  downright  rebels  as  justly  debarred  from  voting,  the 
conservative  anti-slavery  element  secured  at  the  best 
but  a  very  small  representation  in  this  deliberative 
assembly.  The  stringent  oath  of  allegiance,  framed  by 
the  old  Convention  and  rigidly  required  of  every  voter, 
kept  many  from  making  any  attempt  to  deposit  their 
ballots;  not  because  they  were  not,  even  under  such  a 
severe  test,  legal  voters,  but  because  they  shrank  from 
the  catechizing  to  which  they  would  be  subjected  at  the 
polls  by  men  who  looked  with  suspicion  upon  any  one 
with  conservative  views. 

Now  when  the  Convention  made  up  mainly  of  men 
holding  ultra  notions  came  together  and  organized  for 
work,  choosing,  at  its  second  session,  for  president, 
Arnold  Krekel  of  St.  Charles,  a  native  of  Prussia,  an 
able  lawyer,  but  an  extremist  of  the  most  pronounced 
type,  all  St.  Louis  was  agog.  This  first  important  act 
of  the  Convention  unmistakably  revealed  its  radical 
drift,  and  showed  how  potent  in  it  were  the  ultra  political 
notions  of  our  German  fellow-citizens.  It  proceeded  at 
once  to  the  paramount  business  for  which  it  had  been 
created  and  called  together,  the  emancipation  of  the 
slaves  of  Missouri.  On  the  fifth  day  after  its  organization 
it  passed,  with  only  four  votes  in  the  negative,  the 
following  ordinance: 


Radicals  in  Convention  345 

"  Be  it  ordained  by  the  People  of  the  State  of  Mis 
souri,  in  Convention  assembled: 

"  That  hereafter,  in  this  State,  there  shall  be  neither 
slavery  nor  involuntary  servitude,  except  in  punish 
ment  of  crime,  whereof  the  party  shall  have  been  duly 
convicted;  and  all  persons  held  to  service  or  labor  as 
slaves  are  hereby  declared  free." 

The  hall  was  packed  with  spectators;  and  when  the 
almost  unanimous  vote  for  this  ordinance  was  announced 
by  the  president  they  broke  out  into  loud  applause; 
they  swung  hats,  waved  handkerchiefs,  stamped,  clapped 
their  hands  and  cheered.  The  president  cried,  "  Order, 
order,"  pounded  with  his  gavel  and  called  on  the  ser- 
geant-at-arms  to  suppress  the  exultant  uproar;  but 
every  effort  was  futile ;  he  might  as  well  have  attempted 
to  still  a  hurricane  by  pounding  on  a  board  with  a  gavel 
and  by  threatening  it  with  an  attack  by  one  man  armed. 
And  how  foolish  it  was  to  try.  For  many  years  men  in 
that  shouting  crowd  had  longed  for  that  hour ;  they  had 
often  feared  that  they  should  die  without  the  sight. 
And  now  that  it  had  come  in  such  unexpected  ways 
their  joy  must  have  vent.  And  in  spite  of  all  efforts 
to  quiet  them  they  continued  to  cheer  until  they  were 
exhausted.  No  wTonder.  The  event  that  excited  them 
was  great  and  significant.  More  than  a  hundred  thou 
sand  slaves  were  in  a  moment  made  freemen  and  the 
greatest  obstacle  to  the  progress  of  Missouri  was  swept 
out  of  the  way. 

When  at  last  the  glad  cries  of  the  onlooking  throng 
died  away,  Dr.  Eliot  was  called  upon  to  voice  the  grati 
tude  of  all  present  by  returning  thanks  to  Almighty 
God.  He  came  to  the  president's  desk  and  from  a  full 
heart  poured  out  in  tremulous  tones  this  fitting  petition : 

"  Most  merciful  God,  before  whom  we  are  all  equal, 


346        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

we  look  up  to  thee  who  hast  declared  thyself  our 
Father  and  our  helper  and  our  strong  defence,  to  thank 
thee  that  thou  art  no  respecter  of  persons,  to  thank 
thee  that  thou  didst  send  Jesus  Christ  into  the  world 
to  redeem  the  world  from  sin,  and  that  he  was  the  friend 
of  the  poor,  that  he  came  to  break  the  manacles  of  the 
slaves,  'that  the  oppressed  might  go  free.'  We  thank 
thee  that  this  day  the  people  of  this  State  have  had 
grace  given  them  to  do  as  they  would  be  done  by.  We 
pray  that  thy  blessing  may  rest  upon  the  proceedings 
of  this  Convention,  that  no  evil  may  come  to  this  State 
from  the  wrong  position  of  those  who  do  riot  agree  with 
the  action  of  to-day,  but  that  we,  all  of  us,  may  be 
united  to  sustain  this  which  is  the  law  of  the  land.  We 
pray,  0  God !  but  our  hearts  are  too  full  to  express  our 
thanksgiving !  Thanks  be  to  God  for  this  day  that  light 
has  now  come  out  of  darkness,  that  all  things  are  now 
promising  a  future  of  peace  and  quietness  to  our  dis 
tracted  State.  Grant  that  this  voice  may  go  over  the 
whole  land  until  the  Ordinance  of  Emancipation  is 
made  perfect  throughout  the  States.  We  ask  it  through 
the  name  of  our  dear  Lord  and  Redeemer.  Amen." 

This  prayer  was  followed  by  some  moments  of  reverent 
silence;  the  hearts  of  all  present  had  been  deeply 
touched.  Then  the  hush  that  had  fallen  alike  on  dele 
gates  and  spectators  was  reluctantly  broken.  In  sub 
dued  tones  a  motion  was  offered  that  the  Ordinance  of 
Emancipation  be  engrossed  on  parchment,  attested  by 
the  secretary  and  signed  by  the  members  of  the  Con 
vention.  This  was  unanimously  adopted. 

Without  a  moment's  delay,  it  was  moved  and  carried 
that  a  duly  authenticated  copy  of  the  Ordinance  be  sent 
by  special  messenger  to  the  Governor  of  the  State,  at 
Jefferson  City,  and  that  he  be  requested  to  issue  a 


Radicals  in  Convention  347 

proclamation  to  the  people  of  the  commonwealth, 
apprising  them  that,  "by  the  irrevocable  action  of  the 
Convention,  slavery  is  abolished  in  the  State  of  Mis 
souri,  now  and  forever." 

The  Convention,  being  in  no  mood  to  take  up  other 
business,  adjourned  till  the  next  day.  But  the  report 
of  what  they  had  done  had  already  spread  through  the 
whole  city.  It  outran  the  newsboys  who  were  soon 
vociferously  hawking  on  every  street  the  extras  that 
had  been  quickly  sent  forth  from  the  newspaper  presses. 
All  business  for  the  rest  of  the  day  was  suspended.  The 
joyful  peal  of  bells  from  tower  and  steeple  struck  every 
ear.  Crowds  spontaneously  gathered  on  the  streets. 
They  eagerly  rehearsed  and  animatedly  discussed  what 
the  Convention  had  done.  Most  approved  it;  a  few 
condemned  it.  Public  buildings  and  most  private 
dwellings  quickly  hung  out  in  profusion  the  national 
banner,  and  when  night  came  hundreds  of  buildings  were 
illuminated.  There  was  a  carnival  of  joy. 

The  negroes  filled  their  churches,  sang  songs  of 
deliverance,  and  poured  out  their  quaint  thanksgiving 
to  God  that  the  day  for  which  they  had  so  long  sighed 
had  come.  As  their  leaders  prayed,  those  in  the  pews, 
swaying  their  bodies  back  and  forth,  cried:  "Bress  de 
Lawd,  Amen,  Glory,  Hal'luah,  We's  free."  To  them  it 
was  the  day  of  days.  Their  year  of  jubilee  had  come. 
They  shouted,  and  sang  their  touching  melodies  till 
long  after  midnight. 

But  our  picture  would  be  far  from  complete  without 
a  glance  at  the  capital  of  the  State.  Before  the  special 
messenger,  bearing  the  Ordinance  of  Emancipation,  had 
reached  Jefferson  City,  the  telegraph  had  anticipated 
both  him  and  his  message.  The  legislature  was  in  ses 
sion.  On  receipt  of  the  news,  business  was  at  once 


348       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

suspended  and  the  members  of  both  houses,  with  rare 
exceptions,  gave  themselves  up  to  rejoicing.  By  a 
resolution  enthusiastically  adopted,  Colonel  Jameson 
of  St.  Louis,  Mr.  Klitzner  of  Hannibal,  and  Mr.  Doan  of 
Grundy  were  invited  to  sing  "  John  Brown."  Standing 
in  front  of  the  speaker's  desk  they  sang  it  amid  hearty 
applause,  the  members  of  the  legislature  joining  in  the 
chorus,  "  Glory,  glory  Hallelujah."  When  the  legisla 
ture  adjourned,  there  were  several  spontaneous  gather 
ings  of  the  citizens  of  Jefferson  City.  These  meetings 
were  addressed  by  the  ablest  speakers  residing  at  the 
capital;  also  by  some  members  of  the  legislature,  and 
by  the  Congressman  of  the  district.  National  banners 
were  run  up  on  all  public  buildings,  and  out  from  the 
windows  of  most  of  the  private  houses;  bells  rang, 
bands  played,  and  in  the  evening  tar  barrels  were  burned 
in  the  streets,  while  every  window-pane  of  the  Capitol 
seemed  to  be  illuminated.  The  trees  and  the  neighbor 
ing  hills  caught  up  the  light  and  seemed  to  rejoice  with 
the  city;  reminding  many  of  the  rapt  words  of  the 
prophet;  "  The  mountains  and  the  hills  shall  break 
forth  before  you  into  singing  and  all  the  trees  of  the 
field  shall  clap  their  hands." 

On  the  same  day,  January  llth,  as  "requested  "  by 
the  Convention,  Governor  Fletcher,  reciting  the  Ordi 
nance  of  Emancipation,  proclaimed  to  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  commonwealth  "  that  henceforth  and  forever  no 
person  within  the  jurisdiction  of  this  State  shall  be 
subject  to  any  abridgement  of  liberty,  except  such  as 
the  law  may  prescribe  for  the  common  good,  or  know 
any  master  but  God." 

And  so  the  curtain  fell  on  the  first  and  greatest  act 
of  the  Convention.  If,  after  eliminating  from  the 
Constitution  of  the  State  all  that  pertained  to  involun- 


Radicals  in  Convention  349 

tary  servitude,  thus  making  it  consonant  with  the 
Ordinance  of  Emancipation,  the  Convention  had  ad 
journed  sine  die,  it  would  have  covered  itself  with 
imperishable  glory.  But  the  act  of  the  legislature  by 
which  it  was  created  gave  to  it  almost  unlimited  powers. 
It  was  especially  called  upon  so  to  amend  the  Constitu 
tion  that  the  elective  franchise  should  be  preserved  in 
its  purity  to  all  loyal  citizens,  and  to  make  such  other 
amendments  as  it  might  think  "  essential  to  the  public 
good."  Under  this  last  clause  apparently  there  was 
nothing  that  they  might  not  legally  do,  and  in  their 
remaining  work  they  went  to  the  full  limit  of  their 
powers.  Instead  of  simply  revising  the  old  Constitution 
they  in  fact  made  a  new  one,  and  in  spots  it  was  admi 
rable.  It  contained  the  most  progressive  doctrines  of 
popular  government;  but  in  prescribing  who  should  be 
legal  voters  their  enactments  were  so  extreme  that  they 
appear  to  us  now  quite  ludicrous.  To  justify  this  state 
ment  we  venture  to  give  in  full  sections  3  and  6  of 
article  II  of  the  Constitution,  together  with  the  pre 
scribed  oath,  believing  that  any  intelligent  reader  who 
begins  the  perusal  of  them  will  proceed  with  increasing 
interest  to  the  last  line. 

"  SEC.  3.  At  any  election  held  by  the  people  under  this 
Constitution,  or  in  pursuance  of  any  law  of  this  State, 
or  under  any  ordinance  or  by-law  of  any  municipal 
corporation,  no  person  shall  be  deemed  a  qualified  voter, 
who  has  ever  been  in  armed  hostility  to  the  United 
States,  or  to  the  lawful  authorities  thereof,  or  to  the 
Government  of  this  State;  or  has  ever  given  aid,  com 
fort,  countenance,  or  support  to  persons  engaged  in  any 
such  hostility;  or  has  ever,  in  any  manner,  adhered  to 
the  enemies,  foreign  or  domestic,  of  the  United  States, 
either  by  contributing  to  them,  or  by  unlawfully  sending 


350        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

within  their  lines,  money,  goods,  letters,  or  information; 
or  has  ever  disloyally  held  communication  with  such 
enemies;  or  has  ever  advised  or  aided  any  person 
to  enter  the  service  of  such  enemies;  or  has  ever, 
by  act  or  word,  manifested  his  adherence  to  the 
cause  of  such  enemies,  or  his  desire  for  their  triumph 
over  the  arms  of  the  United  States,  or  his  sympathy 
with  those  engaged  in  exciting  or  carrying  on  re 
bellion  against  the  United  States;  or  has  ever, 
except  under  overpowering  compulsion,  submitted  to 
the  authority,  or  been  in  the  service,  of  the  so-called 
'  Confederate  States  of  America; '  or  has  left  this 
State,  and  gone  within  the  lines  of  the  armies  of  the 
so-called  '  Confederate  States  of  America/  with  the 
purpose  of  adhering  to  said  States  or  armies;  or  has 
ever  been  a  member  of,  or  connected  with,  any  order, 
society,  or  organization,  inimical  to  the  Government  of 
the  United  States,  or  to  the  Government  of  this  State; 
or  has  ever  been  engaged  in  guerrilla  warfare  against  loyal 
inhabitants  of  the  United  States,  or  in  that  description 
of  marauding  commonly  known  as  'bushwhacking;' 
or  has  ever  knowingly  and  willingly  harbored,  aided,  or 
countenanced,  any  person  so  engaged ;  or  has  ever  come 
into  or  left  this  State  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  enroll 
ment  for  or  draft  into  the  military  service  of  the  United 
States;  or  has  ever,  with  a  view  to  avoid  enrollment 
in  the  militia  of  this  State,  or  to  escape  the  performance 
of  duty  therein,  or  for  any  other  purpose,  enrolled  him 
self,  or  authorized  himself  to  be  enrolled,  by  or  before 
any  officer,  as  disloyal,  or  as  a  Southern  sympathizer, 
or  in  any  other  terms  indicating  his  disaffection  to  the 
Government  of  the  United  States  in  its  contest  with 
rebellion,  or  his  sympathy  with  those  engaged  in  such 
rebellion;  or,  having  ever  voted  at  any  election  by  the 


Radicals  in  Convention  351 

people  in  this  State,  or  in  any  other  of  the  United  States, 
or  in  any  of  their  Territories,  or  held  office  in  this  State, 
or  in  any  other  of  the  United  States,  or  in  any  of  their 
Territories,  or  under  the  United  States,  shall  thereafter 
have  sought  or  received,  under  claim  of  alienage,  the  pro 
tection  of  any  foreign  government,  through  any  consul 
or  other  officer  thereof,  in  order  to  secure  exemption 
from  military  duty  in  the  militia  of  this  State,  or  in  the 
army  of  the  United  States;  nor  shall  any  such  person 
be  capable  of  holding,  in  this  State,  any  office  of  honor, 
trust,  or  profit,  under  its  authority;  or  of  being  an 
officer,  councilman,  director,  trustee,  or  other  manager 
of  any  corporation.,  public  or  private,  now  existing  or 
hereafter  established  by  its  authority;  or  of  acting  as 
a  professor  or  teacher  in  any  educational  institution, 
or  in  any  common  or  other  school;  or  of  holding  any 
real  estate,  or  other  property,  in  trust  for  the  use  of 
any  church,  religious  society,  or  congregation.  But  the 
foregoing  provisions  in  relation  to  acts  done  against  the 
United  States  shall  not  apply  to  any  person  not  a 
citizen  thereof,  who  shall  have  committed  such  acts 
while  in  the  service  of  some  foreign  country  at  war 
with  the  United  States,  and  who  has,  since  such  acts, 
been  naturalized,  or  may  hereafter  be  naturalized, 
under  the  laws  of  the  United  States;  and  the  oath  of 
loyalty  hereinafter  prescribed,  when  taken  by  such 
person,  shall  be  considered  as  taken  in  such  sense." 

"  SEC.  6.  The  oath  to  be  taken  as  aforesaid  shall  be 
known  as  the  Oath  of  Loyalty,  and  shall  be  in  the 
following  terms : 

" '  I,  A.  B.,  do  solemnly  swear,  that  I  am  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  terms  of  the  third  section  of  the 
second  Article  of  the  Constitution  of  the  State  of  Mis 
souri,  adopted  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty- 


352       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

five,  and  have  carefully  considered  the  same;  that  I 
have  never,  directly  or  indirectly,  done  any  of  the  acts 
in  said  section  specified;  that  I  have  always  been  truly 
and  loyally  on  the  side  of  the  United  States  against  all 
enemies  thereof,  foreign  and  domestic;  that  I  will 
bear  true  faith  and  allegiance  to  the  United  States,  and 
will  support  the  Constitution  and  laws  thereof,  as  the 
supreme  law  of  the  land,  any  law  or  ordinance  of  any 
State  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding;  that  I  will, 
to  the  best  of  my  ability,  protect  and  defend  the  Union 
of  the  United  States,  and  not  allow  the  same  to  be 
broken  up  and  dissolved,  or  the  Government  thereof 
to  be  destroyed  or  overthrown,  under  any  circum 
stances,  if  in  my  power  to  prevent  it ;  that  I  will  support 
the  Constitution  of  the  State  of  Missouri;  and  that  I 
make  this  oath  without  any  mental  reservation  or 
evasion,  and  hold  it  to  be  binding  on  me/' 

We  see  from  this  how  intensely  in  earnest  were  the 
delegates  of  this  Convention.  But  this  oath  was  not 
wholly  a  creation  of  theirs.  It  had  a  gradual  growth. 
We  have  seen  with  what  imperativeness  General  Halleck 
demanded  an  oath  of  allegiance  of  all  officers  of  the 
State,  county  and  city,  without  which  they  were  not 
permitted  to  exercise  their  functions.  The  generals  of 
the  department  that  came  after  him  rigorously  main 
tained  the  same  policy.  The  first  sovereign  Convention 
adopted  it  and  strenuously  enforced  it  by  the  sword. 
This  Convention,  receiving  it  from  the  first,  with  won 
derful  genius  for  probing  the  conscience,  elaborated  it. 
Under  its  manipulation  the  oath  became  retrospective, 
introspective  and  prospective.  No  man  could  take  it 
without  perjury,  who  by  word  or  act  had  been  in  the 
past,  was  in  the  present,  or  should  be  in  the  future,  dis 
loyal  to  the  government  of  the  United  States.  It  not 


Radicals  in  Convention  353 

only  prohibited  one  who  could  not  subscribe  to  it  from 
voting,  but  also  from  holding  any  government  office 
of  whatever  grade,  teaching  in  any  school  or  preaching 
the  gospel.  And  to  make  sure  that  the  fountains  of 
justice  should  be  freed  from  every  suspicion  of  dis 
loyalty,  the  Convention  vacated  the  offices  of  the 
judges  of  the  Supreme  Court,  circuit  and  county  courts, 
and  special  courts  of  record  throughout  the  State,  and 
of  all  clerks  of  courts,  county  recorders,  and  circuit 
attorneys  and  their  assistants,  and  "  empowered  and 
directed  "  the  Governor  of  the  State  to  fill  these  offices 
so  vacated  by  his  appointment.  Since  most  judges  and 
subordinate  officers  of  the  courts  were  unable  to  sub 
scribe  to  the  oath  of  loyalty  without  perjury,  the  Con 
vention  was  determined  that  court  officials  should  be 
appointed  that  could.  And  thinking  it  unsafe  to  wait 
for  the  slow  process  of  a  popular  election  and  probably 
fearing,  if  they  should,  that  the  elections  might  not  go 
according  to  their  liking,  they  took  a  short  cut  to  clean 
the  Augean  stables.  It  looked  like  revolution.  At  all 
events  the  Convention  went  to  the  full  limit,  if  not 
beyond  the  limit,  of  its  powers.  The  judges  of  the 
Supreme  Court  resisted  what  they  regarded  a  gross 
usurpation  of  authority;  but  their  resistance  was  vain. 
They  were  arrested  and  tried  before  the  City  Recorder 
as  disturbers  of  the  peace,  and  so  sank  from  public 
view. 

While  the  Convention  designated  the  oath  the  "  Oath 
of  Loyalty;  "  the  people,  seizing  upon  its  exact  intent, 
called  it  the  Test  Oath.  Its  object  was  to  test  the 
loyalty  of  those  who  were  required  to  take  it.  But  the 
oath  was  too  indiscriminate.  It  did  not  sufficiently 
recognize  different  degrees  of  guilt.  Many  in  our  city 
and  State  who  were  at  first  swept  by  the  excitement  of 


354        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

the  hour  into  the  ranks  of  the  secessionists,  soon  saw 
their  error  and  thereafter  loyally  supported  the  Federal 
government.  Others  had  at  times  expressed  their 
sympathy  with  secessionism,  but  in  all  their  overt  acts 
had  been  faithful  to  the  Union.  It  would  naturally 
have  been  expected  that  ordinarily  wise  and  humane 
legislators  would  have  provided  for  the  full,  uncon 
ditional  pardon  of  such  men.  But  no;  this  oath  of 
loyalty  was  pitiless.  It  made  not  the  slightest  provision 
for  the  penitent.  The  majority  of  the  Convention  seem 
to  have  proceeded  on  the  assumption  that  men  who 
had  been  guilty  of  rebellion  in  any  degree,  if  they  had 
but  expressed  a  sympathetic  emotion  in  its  behalf, 
were  unfit  either  to  vote  or  teach  or  preach. 

And,  for  a  decade,  the  most  genuine  and  heart-felt 
repentance  would  be  altogether  vain;  since  the  Con 
vention  provided,  in  the  25th  section  of  the  second 
article  of  the  Constitution,  that  the  General  Assembly 
of  the  State  might  repeal  the  provisions  of  the  oath,  so 
far  as  they  affected  voters,  after  1871,  but  so  far  as 
they  pertained  to  lawyers,  school  teachers  and  ministers 
not  till  after  1875.  Therefore  irrespective  of  the  degree 
of  his  guilt,  to  the  attorney,  the  pedagogue  or  the 
preacher,  these  astute  constitution-makers,  with  a  scent 
for  disloyalty  keener  than  that  of  a  hound,  for  ten  long 
years,  granted  "no  place  of  repentance,"  even  though 
he  should  seek  it  "  diligently  with  tears." 

It  would,  however,  be  unjust  to  overlook  the  fact  that 
there  was  in  the  Convention  a  conservative  minority, 
who  steadily  and  sturdily  fought  this  extreme  legisla 
tion.  They  contended  that  it  was  unjust  to  many  in 
the  State;  that,  especially  since  the  end  of  the  war  must 
be  near,  the  true  policy  was  that  of  forgiveness  and 
reconciliation;  that  those  who  in  spite  of  their  Southern 


Radicals  in  Convention  355 

birth  and  education  had,  through  bitter  experiences, 
become  loyal,  should  not  have  their  new-born  faith 
crushed  out  of  them  by  this  merciless  oath;  that  the 
oath  was  a  political  blunder  since  it  would  give  all  the 
enemies  of  the  new  Constitution  some  just  ground  for 
their  opposition  to  it.  The  debate  was  long  and  sharp. 
Dr.  Linton,  a  physician  of  our  city,  who  had  been  a 
member  of  the  first  Convention,  while  loyal  to  the  core, 
distinguished  himself  by  his  strong  opposition  to  the 
oath.  He  had  a  genius  for  cogent,  laconic  speech.  And 
since  Charles  D.  Drake,  a  Southerner  by  birth,  was  the 
pre-eminent  advocate  of  the  oath  and  the  author  of  most 
of  its  details,  with  grim  sarcasm  he  called  it  "the  Dra 
conian  oath."  But  the  faithful  minority  could  not  stem 
the  tide  of  radicalism  in  the  Convention  and  this 
notorious  oath  became  a  part  of  the  new  Constitution 
of  Missouri. 

But  we  must  cordially  recognize  the  fact  that  the 
authors  of  it,  and  all  in  the  Convention  who  voted  to 
make  it  part  and  parcel  of  the  ground  law  of  the  State, 
were  genuinely  patriotic.  They  sought  not  primarily 
party  ends,  but  the  highest  good  of  their  common 
wealth  and  of  the  entire  Republic.  While  they  no 
longer  doubted  the  favorable  issue  of  the  terrible  grapple 
of  the  Northern  and  Southern  armies  at  Petersburg 
and  the  Weldon  Railroad,  they  clearly  saw  that  this 
battle  of  blood  would  be  followed  by  a  desperate  political 
contest;  that  what  disunionists  should  fail  to  gain  by 
the  sword,  they  would  endeavor  to  achieve  by  statecraft. 
They  were  firmly  persuaded  that  Missouri  now  faced 
her  greatest  peril;  that  her  future  destiny  trembled  in 
the  balance.  If  her  old,  corrupt  politicians,  who,  through 
necessity  and  with  a  sigh,  had  relinquished  their  hold  on 
slavery,  should  at  once  gain  political  ascendency,  much, 


356       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

if  not  all,  that  had  been  wrought  out  on  the  field  of 
carnage,  would  be  hopelessly  lost.  The  leaders  of  the 
Convention,  with  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  situa 
tion,  shaped  its  legislation  effectively  to  meet,  if  possible, 
the  emergency.  They  framed  this  searching  test  oath 
to  hold  in  check  the  rebellious,  pro-slavery  element  of 
the  commonwealth,  until  the  new  order  of  things  should 
be  thoroughly  established.  They  were  firmly  resolved 
that  those  who  had  striven  with  savage  might  to  force 
Missouri  into  secession,  and  link  her  to  a  Confederacy 
founded  on  slavery,  should  not  shape  her  future  political 
character;  that  since  God  had  preserved  the  people  in 
their  passage  through  a  sea  of  blood,  the  taskmaster 
should  not  now  lead  them  back  to  a  worse  than  Egyptian 
bondage.  Whether  the  acts  of  the  Convention  were 
wise  or  unwise,  the  whole  drift  of  the  Constitution 
framed  by  it  clearly  shows  that  this  was  its  sole  and 
commendable  object. 

But  after  the  Emancipation  Act  was  passed,  the  Con 
vention,  having,  against  the  earnest  protest  of  some  of 
its  own  members,  doggedly  set  itself  to  the  work  of 
making  a  new  Constitution,  lost,  to  a  large  extent,  the 
confidence  of  many  of  the  best  loyal  men  of  the  State. 
Even  a  goodly  number  of  the  delegates  that  composed 
it  became  to  the  extent  of  their  power  obstructionists. 
Absenteeism  grew  apace,  and  only  by  the  rigid  enforce 
ment  of  the  rules  could  the  Convention  be  saved  from 
disastrous  disintegration.  Some  of  its  members  fell 
into  a  vein  of  ridicule  and  one  of  them  offered  a  string 
of  satirical  resolutions,  which,  though  unmitigated 
balderdash,  the  Convention  complacently  spread  on  its 
minutes. 

Most  of  the  constituents  of  the  Convention,  while 
generously  recognizing  the  great  merit  of  much  of  its 


Radicals  in  Convention  357 

work,  were  often  ashamed  of  what  it  did  and  said.  In 
fact  its  debates  were  never  published,  beyond  the  brief 
and  imperfect  reports  of  them  in  the  daily  papers.  In 
explanation  of  this  curious  fact,  it  was  hinted  that  the 
leaders  of  the  Convention  were  so  mortified  by  them, 
that  they  managed  to  suppress  the  whole,  both  good 
and  bad  together. 

The  Convention,  after  dragging  drearily  on  for  seventy- 
eight  days,  completed  its  work.  It  submitted  the  new 
Constitution  which  it  had  wrought  out  to  the  suffrages 
of  the  people,  that  it  might  be  by  them  adopted  or 
rejected.  On  the  sixth  of  June  it  was  ratified  at  the 
polls  by  less  than  two  thousand  majority.  This  slender 
majority  was  in  part  accounted  for  when,  on  analyzing 
the  vote,  it  was  found  that  the  saner  radicals  either 
stayed  at  home  on  election  day  or  voted  with  the  oppo 
sition. 

On  the  first  day  of  July  (1865)  the  Governor  formally 
proclaimed  the  vote  for  the  adoption  of  the  "  Revised 
and  amended  Constitution,"  and  declared  that  "it 
will  take  effect  as  the  Constitution  of  the  State  of  Mis 
souri,  on  the  fourth  day  of  the  present  month  of  July." 
And  while  this  Constitution  was  not  in  all  respects  what 
the  sanest  minds  demanded,  it  contained  so  much  that 
was  progressive  and  admirable  that  its  rejection  at  that 
transitional  epoch  would  have  been  a  calamity.  While 
some  parts  of  it  were  reprehensible,  it  embodied  much  of 
the  most  advanced  statesmanship  of  the  day,  and 
crystallized  in  fundamental  law  what  we  had  achieved 
by  the  war.  It  was  progress  made  permanent. 

But  as  soon  as  the  Constitution  became  operative, 
there  was  throughout  the  State  confusion,  trouble  and 
distress.  No  attorney,  clerk  of  court,  judge  of  any 
grade,  teacher  male  or  female,  deacon,  elder  or  minister 


358        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

was  permitted  to  perform  the  duties  which  pertained 
to  his  profession  or  office  unless  he  had  subscribed  to 
the  test  oath.  Hosts  of  those  upon  whom  this  demand 
was  made  could  not  take  it  without  perjury.  If  without 
subscribing  to  it  they  ventured  to  do  the  duties  which 
belonged  to  their  respective  callings,  they  were  liable 
to  a  fine  of  five  hundred  dollars  or  to  imprisonment  in 
the  county  jail  for  not  less  than  six  months,  or  to  both; 
if  they  should  take  the  oath  falsely  they  would  be 
adjudged  guilty  of  perjury,  and  punished  by  imprison 
ment  in  the  penitentiary  for  not  less  than  two  years. 
As  was  inevitable,  arrests  and  indictments  for  the  viola 
tion  of  this  statute  were  frequent.  Its  attempted 
enforcement  outraged  and  angered  the  people.  A 
multitude  of  protests  loud  and  bitter  came  up  from  every 
part  of  the  commonwealth.  Sympathy  was  aroused 
especially  for  those  who  had  repented  of  their  disloyalty, 
and  now  ardently  desired  to  serve  their  country,  but 
in  whose  faces  the  new  Constitution  shut  and  barred 
every  door  of  forgiveness.  Christian  pastors,  especially 
of  the  Episcopal  and  Baptist  churches,  raised  the  cry  of 
persecution.  But  persecution  was  the  very  farthest 
from  the  purpose  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitution. 
In  their  bill  of  rights  they  set  forth  with  great  breadth 
and  explicitness  the  doctrine  of  unrestricted  religious 
liberty.  And  in  fact  in  the  enforcement  of  the  test 
oath  there  was  no  religious  persecution.  No  one  was 
punished  for  holding  and  promulgating  any  religious 
tenet.  Moreover,  the  oath  was  required  of  lawyers  and 
school  teachers  as  a  prerequisite  to  their  duties  as  well 
as  of  ministers.  Many  ministers  all  over  the  State  had 
in  one  way  or  another  supported  the  rebellion,  and 
were  now  suffering  for  that  and  nothing  else. 

But  the  Convention  had  strangely  blundered.    After 


Radicals  in  Convention  359 

having  proclaimed  unrestricted  religious  liberty,  it  had 
decisively  invaded  it.  For  a  civil  offence  it  had  meted 
out  an  ecclesiastical  penalty.  For  his  disloyalty  to  the 
Federal  government  and  the  State,  it  declared  under 
pains  and  penalties,  that  the  pastor  should  neither 
marry  the  betrothed,  bury  the  dead,  administer  the 
ordinances  of  the  church,  nor  preach  the  gospel.  Thus 
what,  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  it  proclaimed  in  its 
Bill  of  Rights,  it  struck  down  by  its  enacted  Oath  of 
Loyalty.  In  its  legislation  it  entered  a  sphere  from  which 
by  its  own  pronunciamento  it  was  utterly  debarred.  It 
forgot  the  pithy  utterance  of  the  martyred  Lincoln, 
when  appealed  to  to  restore  a  pastor  to  his  parish  and 
pulpit  from  which  on  political  grounds  he  had  been 
deposed  by  a  Presbyterian  synod,  that  "he  could  not 
run  the  government  and  churches  too."  What  a  pity 
that  the  leaders  of  the  Convention  in  their  consuming 
zeal  for  loyalty  undertook  the  impossible  task  of  doing 
both.  Especially  when  just  the  smallest  modicum  of 
logic  in  the  interpretation  of  their  own  new  Constitution 
would  have  kept  them  from  this  colossal  folly. 

But  blessed  be  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States ! 
About  three  years  after  the  new  Constitution  had  been 
ratified  by  the  people,  it  declared  by  barely  one  majority 
that  the  notorious  test  oath  was  unconstitutional.  A 
multitude  in  our  State  ever  after  held  in  grateful  remem 
brance  that  one  Federal  judge,  who  tipped  the  scales 
against  the  oath  that  had  too  long  been  a  thorn  in  the 
side  of  the  body  politic. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   WIND-UP 

IT  was  April  10th,  1865,  the  last  day  of  the  Constitu 
tional  Convention.  As,  in  the  morning,  the  Convention 
began  listlessly  and  wearily  to  do  the  formal  and  neces 
sary  things  before  its  final  adjournment,  a  telegram  was 
received  announcing  the  surrender  of  General  Lee  on 
the  preceding  day  to  General  Grant  at  Appomattox. 
The  effect  was  electric.  In  a  flash  all  dulness  and 
languor  fled.  For  the  nonce  all  differences  of  opinion 
vanished.  All  hearts  were  surcharged  with  patriotic 
emotion.  The  die  was  cast.  The  integrity  of  the 
Union  was  assured.  From  all  parts  of  the  hall  came 
shouts  of  joy;  delegates  and  spectators  vied  with  each 
other  in  expressions  of  gladness.  They  clapped,  stamped 
and  cried,  "  The  Union  forever! "  Mr.  Drake,  the 
leader  of  the  Convention,  finally  got  the  ear  of  the 
rejoicing  patriots  and  gravely  moved  that  they  give 
cheers  three  times  three  "for  the  glorious  news  just  now 
received."  They  were  given  with  full  lung  power. 
Those  nine  hurrahs  brought  the  members  of  the  Con 
vention  to  quietude  once  more,  and  they  proceeded  by 
resolution  to  thank  "  Almighty  God  for  the  success  of 
our  noble  and  patriotic  army  and  navy;  for  the  steady 
and  persistent  perseverance  of  our  noble  President  in 
the  work  of  breaking  the  power  of  the  rebellion;  and 
especially  for  the  noble  and  humane  disposition  which 


The  Wind-up  361 

has  been  manifested  by  our  authorities  to  our  con 
quered  enemy."  But  they  also  declared,  that  they  were 
not  ready  "to  sanction  any  terms  of  peace  which  will 
admit  of  the  perpetuation  of  slavery  in  any  part  of  the 
Republic."  While  this  last  resolution  was  well  enough 
as  an  expression  of  opinion,  it  showed,  at  the  very  last, 
a  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  Convention  to  get  beyond 
its  jurisdiction  and  attempt  to  shape  the  policy  of  the 
general  government.  Its  remaining  routine  work  was 
soon  done.  Its  life  ended.  But  the  city  and  State, 
rejoicing  over  the  close  of  the  war,  scarcely  noted  it. 
Those  who  did  notice  its  termination  were  twice  glad; 
glad  that  it  had  adjourned  sine  die  and  that  national 
peace,  founded  in  justice,  had  come. 

That  10th  of  April  was  memorable  not  only  for  the 
whole  nation,  but  also  especially  for  St.  Louis.  A  border 
city,  which,  for  four  long  years,  had  been  a  bone  of  con 
tention,  fought  over  and  snarled  over  by  the  dogs  of 
war,  had  perhaps  a  keener  appreciation  of  the  surrender 
of  the  illustrious  Lee,  than  could  be  found  in  any  city 
far  to  the  north  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  At  all 
events  no  pen  however  able  and  eloquent  could  ade 
quately  depict  our  joy  on  the  day  which  followed 
Grant's  final  victory  in  Virginia.  No  business  was  done, 
except  that  which  was  most  necessary  and  perfunctory. 
Men  spontaneously  gathered  in  crowds,  their  faces 
radiant,  their  lips  rippling  with  smiles;  they  shook 
hands  with  firm  grip;  with  tears  starting  in  their  eyes 
they  talked  of  the  surrender;  all  bitterness  seemed  to 
be  gone;  there  was  little  or  no  exultation  over  those 
who  had  laid  down  their  arms;  men  on  every  hand  just 
brimmed  over  with  gladness  that  the  fratricidal  strife 
had  ended,  and  that  slavery,  the  fruitful  cause  of  our 
greatest  woes,  was  no  more. 


362        A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

And  it  was  remarkable  how  few  secessionists  there 
were  in  our  city  on  that  day.  During  the  four  preceding 
years  they  had  been  alarmingly  numerous,  but  now  only 
a  very  few  could  be  found;  they  had  been  strangely 
and  magically  transformed  into  Unionists.  Even  those 
who  for  four  years  had  sat  on  the  fence  hopped  off  on 
the  Union  side,  flapped  their  wings  and  crowed. 

Still  our  city  was  not  a  unit  in  political  thought  and 
sentiment.  While  Grant's  victory  caused  the  great 
multitude  to  rejoice,  it  was  wormwood  and  gall  to 
the  few,  who,  in  spite  of  disaster  to  the  Confederacy, 
were  still  faithful  to  it.  While  their  neighbors  were 
exultant,  they  bitterly  mourned.  The  city  put  on  its 
gala  dress.  Public  buildings  and  private  dwellings  were 
lavishly  decorated  with  red,  white  and  blue.  National 
flags  of  all  sizes  were  flung  to  the  breeze.  But  here  and 
there  a  house  was  flagless.  Within  sat  sad  and  sombre 
secessionists  sighing  over  their  shattered  hopes.  They 
refused  to  be  comforted.  At  night  once  more  the  bells 
rang,  bands  played,  bonfires  blazed,  cannon  boomed, 
and  the  windows  of  most  buildings,  public  and  private, 
were  illuminated;  while  in  public  halls  the  people 
gathered  to  listen  to  patriotic  speeches  and  to  sing  the 
most  popular  and  stirring  war  songs.  "The  Star 
Spangled  Banner,"  "  Rally  Round  the  Flag,  Boys," 
and  "  The  Soul  of  Old  John  Brown,"  had  a  large  place 
in  our  festivity,  while  "  My  Country,  'Tis  of  Thee,"  was 
sung  as  the  crowning  and  parting  hymn. 

But  sorrow  and  tears  trod  on  the  heels  of  joy.  April 
15th,  five  days  after  our  exultant  celebration  of  Lee's 
surrender,  came  the  astounding  news  that  our  great 
President  had  been  shot  the  night  before  at  Ford's 
Theatre,  in  Washington,  and  that  he  had  died  in  the 
morning.  For  an  hour  or  two  we  were  dazed  by  this 


The  Wind-up  363 

sudden  and  overwhelming  calamity.  No  one  thought 
of  doing  business.  Those  who  gathered  on  the  Board 
of  Trade  did  nothing  but  talk  over  the  crushing  national 
sorrow.  Men  as  if  in  a  dream  moved  along  the  streets; 
few  said  anything;  they  dumbly  shook  hands  and 
passed  sadly  on;  as  the  most  stalwart  met,  tears  started; 
the  city  was  silent  and  a  pall  of  gloom  rested  upon  all. 
Men  at  last  began  slowly  to  drift  together  in  companies 
upon  the  streets.  They  conversed  in  low  but  earnest 
tones.  Beneath  that  calm  exterior  fierce  passion  burned. 

On  Fourth  Street  a  great,  excited  crowd  had  instinc 
tively  gathered;  they,  like  all  others,  were  talking 
over  the  appalling  national  loss.  A  stranger  passed 
by.  They  thought  that  he  expressed  himself  as  pleased 
with  the  assassination  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  In  a  moment  the 
pent  up  fires  within  them  flashed  forth.  They  seized 
the  stranger,  beat  him,  dragged  him  roughly  along  the 
pavement,  he  all  the  time  pleading  to  be  heard.  At  last 
they  listened  to  his  statement  and  were  convinced  that 
they  had  quite  misunderstood  what  they  believed  to 
have  been  a  grossly  offensive  utterance.  They  were 
deeply  ashamed  of  what  they  had  passionately  done, 
and  humbly  apologized  for  it.  But  the  incident  showed 
that  the  life  of  any  one  in  our  city,  who,  on  that  day, 
should  have  openly  approved  of  the  murder  of  the 
President,  would  have  been  indignantly  snuffed  out. 

Throughout  the  city  all  flags  were  at  half-mast.  On 
public  buildings,  churches  and  private  dwellings,  the 
emblems  of  rejoicing  gave  place  to  those  of  mourning. 
Public  sentiment  was  such  that  no  one  living  in  the 
better  part  of  the  residential  districts  dared  to  withhold 
the  ordinary  tokens  of  the  general  sorrow.  Houses 
that  five  days  before  were  conspicuously  dark  amid 
the  almost  universal  illumination  were  now  draped  in 


364       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

black;  some  it  may  be  in  self-defence,  but  probably 
in  most  cases  as  the  expression  of  genuine  sorrow. 
Though  the  Confederacy  for  which  the  secessionists  of 
our  city  had  worked  and  prayed  was  irretrievably  lost, 
they  had  at  least  come  to  respect  Mr.  Lincoln,  not  only 
for  his  unswerving  fidelity  to  what  he  believed  to  be 
the  right,  but  also  for  his  broad  charity,  and  not  a  few 
of  them,  while  still  differing  from  him  politically,  admired 
him  as  a  man.  They  recognized  in  him  a  great  and 
generous  friend  of  the  South,  and  so  joined  with  us,  on 
that  day  of  tears,  in  eulogizing  the  martyr  and  denoun 
cing  his  assassin.  The  same  lips  that  four  years  before 
had  scornfully  called  him  clown,  the  Illinois  ape,  baboon 
and  gorilla,  now  praised  him.  He  had  not  only  subdued 
the  rebellion  by  force  of  arms,  but  also  by  his  clearness 
of  conception,  fairness  in  administration,  unflinching 
advocacy  of  the  rights  of  all,  patience  and  persistence 
in  duty,  and  large-heart edn ess,  had  conquered  their 
inveterate  prejudices. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  day  of  sorrow,  the  churches 
were  thrown  open,  and  large  congregations  met  to  pray. 
They  poured  out  their  hearts  in  thanksgiving  to  God 
for  the  unsullied  life  of  the  martyred  President;  for  his 
courage  and  wisdom  in  proclaiming  liberty  to  the  captive, 
and  freedom  to  the  oppressed.  They  prayed  for  his 
constitutional  successor  in  office,  and  for  God's  blessing 
on  the  people  both  North  and  South.  Nor  did  they 
forget  the  assassin  whose  wanton  act  had  bowed  a  nation 
in  grief.  In  all  their  utterances  they  were  calm  and 
sane,  as  men  always  are  when,  in  submission  to  the 
will  of  God,  they  commune  with  Him.  At  last  the 
curtain  of  darkness  fell  on  that  terrible  day,  and  men 
with  throbbing  brows  and  aching  hearts  lay  down 
to  rest;  but  to  many,  if  sleep  came  at  all,  it  came  but 


The  Wind-up  365 

fitfully.  We  seemed  to  be  living  in  a  new  world.  One 
era  of  our  national  life  had  ended,  another  had  begun. 
And  with  ever  new  experiences  our  mourning  was 
prolonged  as  from  day  to  day  with  the  whole  Republic 
we  followed  in  thought  the  dust  of  the  immortal  martyr 
to  its  last  resting-place  at  Springfield,  Illinois.  It  was 
most  fitting  that  it  should  lie  near  the  home  of  his  early 
manhood,  and  in  the  State  that  he,  in  larger  measure 
than  any  other,  had  made  illustrious. 

Thirty  days  after  the  assassination  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
the  Baptist  Missionary  Societies  of  the  North  held,  by 
urgent  invitation,  their  May  Meetings  in  our  city. 
This  had  been  made  possible  by  the  war.  The  churches 
of  this  great  denomination  had  long  been  divided  by 
slavery;  but  now  the  delegates  from  the  churches  of 
the  North  came  to  hold  out  the  olive  branch  to  their 
brethren  of  the  South  on  what  had  been  slave  soil. 
They  came  by  hundreds.  The  city  gave  them  a  royal 
welcome.  Christians  of  all  denominations  threw  open 
their  doors  to  them  and  lavished  upon  them  their  hos 
pitality.  It  was  an  era  of  good  feeling.  Denomination- 
alism  and  the  irritating  questions  of  the  war  decidedly 
fell  into  the  background. 

But  there  was  another  side  to  the  picture.  Southern 
Baptists,  except  from  the  national  capital,  did  not  come 
to  us.  The  olive  branch  seemed  to  be  held  out  in  vain. 
The  brotherly  act  was  even  misconstrued.  The  coming 
of  these  Northern  missionary  societies  to  our  city  was 
regarded  as  an  unwarrantable  invasion  of  Southern 
soil.  Forty  years  had  to  pass  away,  a  generation  had 
to  die  in  the  wilderness,  before,  in  St.  Louis,  during  the 
progress  of  the  May  Meetings  of  the  same  societies, 
Northern  and  Southern  Baptists,  standing  face  to  face, 
truly  fraternized  with  each  other  and  sang  heartily: 


366       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

"  Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love." 

There  was  one  unique  incident  at  the  meetings  in 
1865,  that  deserves  special  notice.  The  name  of  the 
martyred  President  was  on  all  lips.  Men  were  just 
beginning  to  understand  and  appreciate  something  of 
his  greatness,  both  of  mind  and  heart.  It  was  whispered 
in  the  ears  of  our  guests  that  an  artist  of  our  city,  A.  J. 
Conant,  had  painted,  from  sittings,  a  portrait  of  Mr. 
Lincoln.  He  was  invited  to  unveil  this  portrait  before 
the  assembled  delegates.  He  did  so.  A  great  and 
distinguished  company  greeted  it  with  enthusiasm  and 
cheers;  and  were  specially  delighted  to  hear  the  artist's 
account  of  what  the  great  President  did  and  said  while 
he  kindly  sat  for  his  portrait,  —  what  quaint  and  sug 
gestive  stories  he  told.  The  portrait  was  painted  before 
Mr.  Lincoln's  first  inauguration.  His  face  was  then 
smooth  shaven.  He  had  not  yet  covered  up  with 
scraggly  whiskers  the  rugged  outlines  of  his  lower  jaw, 
which,  from  a  side  view,  as  some  one  has  said,  was 
shaped  like  the  keel  of  a  three-masted  schooner.1  It 
is  doubtful  if  any  one  has  produced  a  better  portrait 
of  that  strong  face  with  its  undertone  of  sadness. 

A  little  later  the  Presbyterians  held  a  convention  in 
our  city.  This  too  was  an  outcome  of  the  war.  In  May, 
their  General  Assembly  at  Pittsburg  had  enacted  some 
severe  and  radical  measures  in  reference  to  slavery  and 
loyalty  to  the  national  government.  Many  Presby 
terians,  especially  of  the  border  States,  protested  against 
this.  The  convention  was  called  to  consider  the  whole 
question.  There  were  over  two  hundred  delegates, 
mainly  from  the  North;  probably  not  a  score  of  them 

1  See  Volk's  life-mask  of  Lincoln's  face. 


The  Wind-up  367 

were  from  the  border  States,  including  Missouri.1  The 
aggrieved  States  were  very  slimly  represented.  The 
synod  of  Missouri  was  so  opposed  to  the  legislation  of 
the  General  Assembly  as  to  ask  permission  peaceably 
to  withdraw  from  it.  Their  request  was  very  earnestly 
debated.  A  pastor  from  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  joined  hands 
with  a  pastor  of  St.  Louis  in  behalf  of  the  recalcitrant 
synod,  urging,  by  great  ingenuity  of  argument,  that 
the  synod  should  be  permitted  unmolested  to  secede. 
In  their  impassioned  appeals  on  behalf  of  the  aggrieved 
synod  they  were  at  times  so  eloquent  that  the  galleries 
burst  out  into  applause.  The  ladies  waved  their 
handkerchiefs.  The  style  of  the  brother  from  our  city 
was  often  quite  flowery.  These  two  defenders  of  the 
refractory  synod  sometimes  complained  in  their 
speeches  that  they  were  not  being  fairly  dealt  with, 
and  posed  as  martyrs;  at  other  times  their  language 
became  somewhat  threatening. 

But  at  last  a  Scotchman  from  Ohio  got  the  floor. 
His  speech  was  replete  with  mingled  humor  and  sarcasm. 
The  delegates  and  spectators  were  at  times  convulsed 
with  laughter.  Among  other  things  he  said,  with  a 
decided  Scotch  accent,  "Mr.  Moderator,  the  brethren 
who  have  defended  the  synod  that  wishes  to  secede 
have  posed  as  martyrs.  What  is  a  martyr?  In  the 
time  of  the  early  church  it  was  one  who  suffered  for 
the  truth  which  he  believed  and  advocated.  He  was 
thrown  to  wild  beasts  and  was  torn  limb  from  limb; 
or  he  was  sewed  in  a  sack  and  thrown  into  the  Tiber,  or 
he  was  burned  at  the  stake.  But  what  is  a  modern 
martyr?  It  is  to  live  on  Brooklyn  Heights  and  be 
sent  to  Europe  for  the  bronchitis."  A  too  personal 
thrust  at  the  delegate  from  Brooklyn.  "  What  is  a 
1  American  Church  Hist.,  Vol.  VI,  pp.  168-9. 


368       A  Border  City  in  the  Civil  War 

modern  martyr?  It  is  to  make  an  eloquent  speech  in 
an  assembly  like  this  and  have  the  fair  in  the  galleries 
wave  their  handkerchiefs.  But  the  speech  of  the  brother 
from  this  city  brought  to  my  mind  an  experience  of 
my  school  days.  I  wrote  an  oration  and  handed  it  to 
my  teacher  for  correction.  When  he  had  examined  it 
he  called  me  to  him  and  said,  'Taylor,  if  you  would 
only  pluck  a  few  feathers  from  the  wings  of  your  imagi 
nation  and  stick  them  into  the  tail  of  your  judgment, 
you  would  write  a  great  deal  better.' 

"  And  then,  if  I  heard  correctly,  we  are  threatened 
with  disaster  if  we  now  vote  against  permitting  this 
seceding  synod  to  depart  in  peace.  But  shall  we  by 
threats  be  deterred  from  our  duty?  Having  already 
cut  off  the  seven  hydra  heads  of  secession,  shall  we  now 
be  frightened  with  the  wriggle  of  its  tail?  " 

This  was  the  climax.  There  was  long  continued 
laughter  and  applause,  which  the  moderator  was  unable 
to  check.  Peaceable  secession  found  no  more  favor  in 
this  Presbyterian  Convention  than  it  had  found  under 
the  general  government  of  the  United  States.  Secession 
was  dead. 

At  last  the  end  of  strife  in  Missouri  had  come.  It 
came  in  fact  even  before  the  surrender  of  Lee.  Three 
days  after  the  second  inauguration  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
Governor  Fletcher  declared  by  proclamation  that  no 
organized  armed  force  against  the  general  government 
any  longer  existed  in  the  State.  He  called  upon  all 
civil  officers  to  resume  their  duties.  And  on  the  17th 
of  March,  Major-General  Pope,  then  in  command  of 
the  Department  of  Missouri,  issued  orders  to  aid  in 
carrying  out  the  proclamation  of  the  Governor.  He 
withdrew  the  military  forces  from  all  districts  where 
the  people  were  ready  to  return  in  good  faith  to  civil 


The  Wind-up  369 

rule,  and  by  August  there  remained  less  than  a  dozen 
military  posts  in  the  State;  and  these  were  kept  up 
chiefly  for  the  protection  of  the  property  of  the  Federal 
government. 

And  now  rejoicing  in  peace  which  was  based  upon 
righteousness,  St.  Louis  entered  upon  an  era  of  great 
prosperity.  She  grew  apace  in  commerce,  wealth  and 
population.  No  longer,  as  Carl  Schurz  characterized 
her  before  the  war,  "a  free  city  on  slave  soil,"  but  a 
great  free  city  on  free  soil. 


THE  END. 


INDEX 


Abolitionists,  denounced,  48;  alleged  atrocious  conduct  of,  54; 
hated,  161;  two  extraordinary,  170-176;  as  viewed  by  South 
erners,  252. 

Alabama,  Governor  of,  urges  secession,  23,  33. 

Alton,  Illinois,  arms  landed  at,  79;  murder  of  Lovejoy  at,  80; 
fugitives  from  panic  in  Saint  Louis  flee  to,  111. 

Anderson,  Reverend  Galusha,  pastor  of  Second  Baptist  Church, 
122,  166;  character  of  his  church,  122;  prays  for  president, 
124-126;  outraged  by  sight  of  rebel  flag,  126;  his  congregation 
sings  America,  130;  preaches  against  secession,  127-130; 
attempted  attack  upon,  131;  prints  sermon  in  Missouri  Re 
publican,  133;  marriage  of,  131;  visits  Cincinnati,  131;  left 
by  secession  parishioners,  133-134;  attempt  to  force  resigna 
tion  of,  136;  preaches  first  Union  sermon  in  Saint  Louis,  137; 
preaches  so-called  "  politics,"  139;  his  association  with  Christian 
secessionists,  141;  one  of  his  deacons  won  to  the  Union,  148- 
149;  his  interview  with  artist  of  "  The  Slave  Mart,"  156-157; 
denounced  by  Presbyterian  editor,  166;  his  life  threatened, 
167-168;  in  Washington's  Birthday  Parade,  249;  joins  Home 
Guards,  275;  preaches  to  soldiers,  301;  works  in  hospitals, 
302;  helps  conscience -stricken  Quaker  soldier,  303;  cares  for 
religious  work  in  Fifth  Street  Hospital,  304-307;  examines 
teachers  for  negro  schools,  334-335;  preaches  confidence  in 
1864,  339. 

Anderson,  guerilla  leader,  325. 

Anderson,  Confederate  prisoner,  302. 

Anderson,  Reverend  Richard,  negro  pastor,  176;  early  life  of,  12; 
attitude  toward  free  negro  exclusion  bill,  13;  pleads  for  slave 
mother,  177-178. 

Anderson,  Reverend  S.  J.  P.,  mistaken  assault  upon,  134-135; 
preaches  on  "  Ultimatum  of  the  South/'  121,  135. 

Army  and  Brigade  Hospitals,  288. 

Army,  Union,  Missouri  troops  in,  62;  of  the  Frontier,  274. 

Arsenal  in  Saint  Louis,  23,  82,  86;  arms  at,  21;  situation  of,  63; 
fight  for,  63-85;  description  of,  63;  United  States  troops  in, 
64;  threatened  attack  on,  69;  fortifying  of,  69,  73;  two  heads 
to,  70;  rumors  about,  74;  plots  against,  76,  77,  90;  arms  sent 
from,  77-80;  defense  of,  by  Missourians,  83;  prisoners  from 
Camp  Jackson  at,  99-102;  munitions  from  Camp  Jackson 


372  Index 

removed  to,  104;    "  J.  C.  Swan  "  brought  to,  118;    draped  in 

black  for  General  Lyon,  212. 
Baptist  Missionary  Societies,  hold  meetings  in  Saint  Louis,  365; 

division  among,  365. 
Bast,  George  Y.,  casts  only  vote  for  secession  in  convention  of  1861, 

58. 
Bates,   Edward,   President  Lincoln's  Attorney  General,   4;    frees 

his  slave,  Richard  Anderson,  12. 
Baton  Rouge,  arms  stolen  from,  104,  118. 
Battles,  Boonville,  202,  288;    Carthage,  288;    Chickamauga,  315; 

Davidson,  Fort,  328;    Donelson,  Fort,  296;    Dug  Spring,  288; 

Fair  Oaks,    124;     Independence,   273;     Lexington,   219;     Pea 

Ridge,  244;   Pittsburg  Landing,  291;   Wilson's  Creek,  211,  288. 
Beauregard,  General  P.  G.  T.,  attack  of,  on  Fort  Sumter,  74;  street 

in  Camp  Jackson  named  for,  104. 
Bell,  Major  William  H.,  at  Arsenal,  66,  67,  94;    pledges  himself 

to  General  Frost,  66;   ordered  to  N.  Y.,  66;   resigns,  67. 
Belle  Fontaine,  the  Cemetery,  4;  the  Fort,  headquarters  of  Depart 
ment  of  Upper  Louisiana,  7;    Sac  and  Fox  Indians  sell  land 

around,  7. 
Benton,  Thomas  H.,  most  distinguished  man  in  Missouri,  4;   funeral 

of,  4;    called  "  The  Magisterial,"  4;    United  States  Senator,  5; 

political  speeches  of,  5;    opposed  to  nomination  of  John  C. 

Fremont,  5. 

Bitterness  of  feeling  in  Saint  Louis  during  the  war,  159-169. 
Blair,  Frank  P.,  4,  92;    member  of  Congress  and  friend  to  Lyon, 

69;    forms  Home  Guard,  69;    visits  President  Buchanan,  70; 

appeals  to  Secretary  of  War  in  Lyon's  behalf,  73;    in  attack 

on  Camp  Jackson,  96;    confers  with  Committee  of  Safety,  93; 

rumor  of  his  intended  attack  on  the  state  capital,   104;    life 

of,  threatened,  163-165;    proscribed,  169;    in  conference  with 

General  Lyon  and  Governor  Jackson,  199-201;    opposes  Fre 
mont,  222;    becomes  conservative,  279. 
Blunt,  General,  drives  guerrillas  from  Missouri,  273. 
Bogie,  Mr.,  candidate  for  Congress,  5. 
Boonville,  battle  of,  202,  203,  288;   panic  at,  322. 
Border  slave  states,  ignored  by  seceding  states,  60;    kept  in  Union 

by  Missouri's  loyalty,  62. 
Bowen,  Colonel,  of  militia,  on  Kansas  border,  88;  reports  to  General 

Frost  at  Saint  Louis,  89. 
Breckenridge,  Judge  S.  M.,  45. 
Broadhead,  James  O,  lawyer,  4;  member  of  Convention  of  1861, 

44;  member  of  Committee  of  Safety,  92;  attendant  at  Second 
Baptist  Church,  122. 

Brotherton,  Marshal,  deacon,  slaveholder,  emancipator,  170-173. 
Buchanan,  President  James,  65,  68,  176;    inactivity  of,   32,  34-36, 

124;  contrast  to  President  Jackson,  35;  his  position  repudiated 
by  loyalists,  35;  sends  troops  to  Saint  Louis,  64;  refuses 
Captain  Lyon  supreme  command  of  the  Arsenal  at  Saint  Louis, 
70;  prayed  for,  124-125. 


Index  373 

Buckner,  General  Simon  B.,  surrenders  Fort  Donelson,  246. 

Bushwhackers  in  Missouri,  324;    murders  by,  325. 

Butler,  General  Benjamin  F.,  262,  285. 

Cairo,  fugitives  from  panic  flee  to,  111;  military  encampment  at, 
209;  General  Grant  at,  223;  Sanitary  Commission  at,  296; 
General  Smith  at,  with  relief  for  Missouri,  326. 

Calhoun,  John  C.,  disciples  of,  in  Convention  of  1861,  50-51. 

Cameron,  Simon,  President  Lincoln's  Secretary  of  War,  84,  88; 
visits  Fremont,  222. 

Camp  Jackson,  86-105,  106,  119,  126,  159,  169,  181,  198,  203;  for 
whom  named,  89;  fear  of,  90-91;  number  of  men  at,  91;  attack 
upon,  95-98;  prisoners  from,  97-99;  results  from  capture  of, 
99-103;  character  of,  104-105;  streets  in,  104. 

Canby,  General  E.  R.  S.,  calls  for  soldiers,  320. 

Carthage,  battle  of,  288. 

Cavender,  Mr.,  gives  time  to  Home  for  Refugees,  293. 

Chamber  of  Commerce,  division  of,  153-154. 

"  Charcoals  and  Claybanks,"  276-287,  341,  342;  radical  and  con 
servative  Unionists,  277-278;  differences  among,  278;  extreme 
policy  of  Charcoals,  280-282;  Charcoals  oppose  General  Schofield 
and  Governor  Gamble,  283-284;  complain  to  War  Department, 
285;  Claybanks  favor  and  oppose  General  Schofield,  287. 

Chicago  Convention  nominates  Abraham  Lincoln,  54-55. 

Chickamauga,  battle  of,  315. 

Chouteau,  Colonel,  house  of,  back  from  river,  7. 

Christian  secessionists,  140-141. 

Church,  see  "  Pulpit,"  "  Baptist,"  "  Presbyterian." 

City  General  Hospital,  290. 

City  Hospital,  288. 

"  City  of  Alton,"  steamer,  engaged  to  carry  arms,  77-80. 

"  City  of  Louisiana,"  fitted  as  a  hospital,  297. 

Civil  government  in  Saint  Louis  inaugurated,  7. 

"  Claybanks,"  see  "  Charcoals  and  Claybanks." 

Clayton,  Honorable  A.  M.,  of  Alabama,  119. 

Clubs,  political,  19-22;   see  "  Wide- Awakes  "  and  "  Minute  Men." 

Colonization  Society,  175. 

Columbus,  Kentucky,  fugitives  from  panic  flee  to,  111;  rebels  at, 
plan  to  seize  Paducah,  223;  Union  army  there  first,  245. 

Committee  of  Safety,  92-93. 

Committee  on  Federal  Relations,  of  Convention  of  1861,  53,  49; 
reports  against  secession,  57. 

Conant,  A.  J.,  unveils  Lincoln's  portrait,  366. 

Conant,  Major,  in  conference  with  Lyon  and  Jackson,  199. 

Confederacy,  Southern,  71,  82,  87,  105,  119,  147;  formed,  62; 
Congress  of,  votes  to  admit  Missouri,  232;  authorizes  Jefferson 
Davis  to  raise  troops  in  Missouri,  232. 

Confiscation,  of  war  material  in  Saint  Louis,  116:  of  the  "  J.  C. 
Swan,"  118;  of  slaves,  218;  by  General  Curtis,  280. 

Constitution  of  Missouri,  new,  of  1865,  349,  356;  ratified  at  polls, 
357;  portion  of,  declared  unconstitutional,  359. 


374  Index 

Convention  of  Missouri  of  1861,  how  created,  41-42;  met  in  Jefferson 
City,  42-43;  adjourned  to  Saint  Louis,  45;  its  composition, 
46-48;  proslavery  in  sentiment,  48;  divided  on  how  to  preserve 
slavery,  49;  conditional  and  unconditional  unionists  in,  50-52; 
organization  of,  53;  speech  in,  by  Orr,  54;  action  of,  on  Georgia's 
Ordinance  of  Secession,  55;  opposed  by  legislature,  56;  sover 
eign  in  Missouri,  57,  231;  voted  down  secession,  58;  adjourned 
to  meet  on  call  of  Committee,  58;  came  together  in  July,  227; 
established  provisional  state  government,  228;  sustained  by 
Halleck,  235;  required  oath  of  allegiance,  235. 

Convention,  Radical,  of  1865,  342-359;  calling  of,  342;  composition 
of,  343-344;  met  in  Mercantile  Library  Hall,  343;  a  German 
as  president  of,  344;  passed  Emancipation  Ordinance,  345-346; 
made  drastic  requirements  for  the  franchise,  349-352;  adopted 
"  Oath  of  Loyalty,"  351-353;  amended  the  constitution, 
349-352,  360-361;  rejoicing  in,  over  Lee's  surrender,  360; 
adjourned  sine  die,  April  10,  361. 

Cooper,  William,  commissioner  from  Alabama,  23. 

Crum,  Mr.,  candidate  for  Congress,  5. 

Currency,  268-270;  postage  stamps  used  as,  269;  "  postage  cur 
rency,"  269;  "  fractional  currency,"  269;  furs  used  as,  8. 

Curtis,  General  Samuel  R.,  274,  280;  drives  Price  from  Missouri, 
244;  wins  victory  at  Pea  Ridge,  244;  in  command  at  Saint 
Louis,  274;  favors  Charcoals,  280;  confiscations  by,  280;  in 
collision  with  governor,  281;  removal  of,  282,  283. 

Davidson,  Fort,  battle  of,  328. 

Davis,  Jefferson,  his  letter  to  Governor  Jackson,  87;  cannon  solicited 
from,  88,  94;  street  in  Camp  Jackson  named  for,  104;  cannon 
sent  by,  to  Saint  Louis,  105;  cheers  for,  191;  visited  by  Gov 
ernor  Jackson,  229;  authorized  to  raise  troops  in  Missouri,  232; 
approves  act  admitting  Missouri  to  Confederacy,  233. 

Decisions  for  and  against  the  Union,  146-158;  for  the  Union,  146-149. 

Democrats,  20;    on  Saint  Louis  school  board,  336. 

Divisions,  caused  by  the  war,  146-158;  in  church,  151-153;  in 
Chamber  of  Commerce,  153-154;  between  friends,  149-151,  154. 

Dix,  Dorothea  L.,  superintendent  of  nurses,  288;  appoints  Mr. 
Yeatman  her  agent  in  Saint  Louis,  294. 

Donelson,  Fort,  capture  of,  246;    Sanitary  Commission  at,  296. 

Douglas,  Stephen  A.,  his  debates  with  Lincoln,  11;  champion  of 
squatter  sovereignty,  17,  20. 

Drake,  Charles  D.,  advocate  of  Oath  of  Loyalty,  "  Draconian  Oath," 
355;  calls  for  cheers  for  Lee's  surrender,  360. 

Dryden,  John,  altered  quotation  from,  148. 

Dug  Spring,  battle  of,  288. 

Duke,  Basil  Wilson,  leader  of  Minute  Men,  police  commissioner,  72. 

Eliot,  Reverend  William  G.,  D.D.,  4,  301;  Unitarian,  unionist,  121; 
of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  289;  description  of,  290;  offers 
prayer  of  thanksgiving  in  Convention  of  1865,  345-346. 

Emancipation,  Proclamation  of,  by  President  Lincoln,  149;  by 
individual  slave  owners,  170-176;  by  General  Halleck,  241; 


Index  375 

Ordinance  passed  by  Missouri  Convention  of  1865,  345,  356; 
celebrated  at  Saint  Louis  and  Jefferson  City,  347-348. 

Engler,  Mr.,  banished  because  of  resistance  to  assessments,  243. 

Everett,  Edward,  delivers  oration  on  Washington,  in  Saint  Louis, 
271,  272. 

Ewing,  General,  327-330;  holds  Pilot  Knob,  327;  checks  Price  at 
Fort  Davidson,  328;  retreats  to  the  Meramec,  329;  holds 
Harrison  Station,  329. 

Fair,  Mississippi  Valley  Sanitary,  held  by  Western  Sanitary  Com 
mission,  309-314;  participants  in,  309-310;  departments  of, 
311-312;  Germans  in,  311-312;  widespread  response  to  ap 
peals  for,  310;  success  of,  313;  a  boon  to  Saint  Louis,  314. 

Federal  Relations,  committee  on  in  convention  of  1861,  49,  53,  57. 

Filley,  Oliver  D.,  mayor  of  Saint  Louis,  a  friend  to  Lyon,  69;  member 
of  Committee  of  Safety,  92. 

Flags,  absence  of,  in  1861,  23,  38,  131,  362;  rebel,  in  street,  38-39, 
72,  126,  hauled  down,  100,  suppressed  by  Halleck,  237;  display 
of  Stars  and  Stripes,  146-147,  159,  248;  on  Court  House,  29; 
lowered  at  Sumter,  75;  at  the  Fair,  313. 

Fletcher,  Governor  T.  C.,  346;  election  of,  341;  proclaims  Eman 
cipation  Ordinance,  348;  proclaims  Revised  Constitution,  357; 
proclaims  end  of  armed  conflict,  368. 

Floyd,  John  Buchanan,  of  Virginia,  Secretary  of  War,  sends  arms 
south,  34. 

Foote,  Commodore  Andrew  Hull,  at  Fort  Henry,  245;  at  Fort 
Donelson,  246. 

Fort  Sumter,  fall  of,  74,  75;   effect  of,  in  Saint  Louis,  75. 

Foster,  Mr.,  delegate  to  convention  of  1861,  56. 

Freedmen's  Relief  Society,   organized,  294. 

Fremont,  John  C.,  offered  Republican  nomination  for  President,  5; 
Major  General,  206;  his  fleet  on  the  Mississippi,  208;  deceived 
at  New  Madrid,  209;  at  Cairo,  209,  230;  fails  to  support  Lyon, 
208-209,  212-213;  praises  Lyon,  213;  inefficiency  of,  212-213, 
219,  223;  declares  martial  law  in  Saint  Louis,  213,  in  Missouri, 
217;  frees  slaves  of  the  disloyal,  217;  is  reproved  by  Lincoln, 
217-218;  fails  to  reenforce  Mulligan,  219;  fortifies  Saint  Louis, 
220;  leaves  for  Jefferson  City,  221;  his  campaign  in  Missouri, 
221;  appoints  officers  and  approves  bills  improperly,  223; 
occupies  Springfield,  221;  at  Jefferson  City,  223;  reproved 
by  Secretary  of  War,  222,  223;  removal  of,  224;  confidence 
in,  shown  by  Germans,  225;  his  patriotism,  225;  favored  Char 
coals,  279;  aids  hospitals,  288;  fits  up  hospital  cars,  296. 

Frost,  General  Daniel  M.,  66,  105;  sketch  of  life  of,  87;  his  plans 
for  seizing  Saint  Louis,  87-90;  his  letter  to  Lyon,  94;  disloyal 
record  of,  94;  a  spy,  95;  in  command  of  all  Missouri  militia,  88; 
forms  camp  at  west  of  city,  89;  learns  of  Lyon's  plans,  94; 
joins  rebel  army,  94;  surrenders  Camp  Jackson,  95. 

Fugitive  Slave  Law,  execution  of,  demanded,  52;  a  dead  letter,  181. 

Fur  trade,  chief  trade  in  Saint  Louis,  early  part  of  nineteenth 
century,  8. 


376  Index 

Gallaher,  Reverend  H.  M.,  attacked,  while  in  pulpit  of  author,  131. 

Gamble,  Honorable  Hamilton  R.,  chairman  of  Committee  on  Federal 
Relations,  49,  50,  53;  chosen  provisional  governor  of  Missouri, 
228;  issues  proclamation,  228-229;  calls  for  state  troops,  229; 
takes  action  against  guerrillas,  273. 

Georgia,  Ordinance  of  Secession  of,  55;  commissioner  from,  visits 
Missouri  officials,  53-56. 

Germans  in  Saint  Louis,  in  1860,  1;  Republicans,  16;  enter  volun 
teer  service,  81;  three  fourths  of  volunteer  force,  85;  soldiers, 
97,  98;  at  attack  on  Camp  Jackson,  97;  in  the  Home  Guards, 
106;  rumor  of  intended  rising  of,  112;  fear  attack  by  Americans, 
113;  rumor  of  intended  advance  of,  on  Jefferson  City,  104; 
attack  on,  106-107;  bitterness  against,  160;  fired  on,  204; 
at  the  Fair,  311. 

Giddings,  Honorable  J.  R.,  of  Connecticut  Western  Reserve,  his 
address  on  slavery,  27,  28;  his  opposition  to  slavery,  27. 

Glenn,  Honorable  Luther  J.,  commissioner  from  Georgia,  visits 
Missouri  convention  of  1861,  53-56. 

Glover,  Samuel  T.,  lawyer,  4;  member  of  Committee  of  Safety,  92; 
his  writ  of  replevin,  93. 

Grant,  General  Ulysses  S.,  at  Saint  Louis,  100;  at  Cairo,  209,  223; 
at  Paducah,  223;  organizes  an  army,  above  Columbus,  245; 
at  Fort  Henry,  245;  at  Fort  Donelson,  246-247;  on  the  Missis 
sippi,  251;  at  Vicksburg,  298;  sustains  Western  Sanitary 
Commission,  295;  in  Virginia,  320,  338,  340,  360;  accuses 
Rosecrans,  321;  at  Appomattox,  360,  361. 

Greely,  C.  S.,  Esquire,  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  289. 

Greely  and  Gale,  loyal  firm,  name  of,  used  as  a  blind,  104. 

Guerrillas,  240,  274-275,  321-324;  cause  much  damage,  272;  action 
against,  273;  driven  from  Missouri,  273-274;  invade  Missouri 
from  the  South  and  Illinois,  320;  plunder  Union  men,  324. 

Hagner,  Major  Peter  V.,  description  of,  67,  72;  in  command  at 
arsenal,  67;  claims  to  outrank  Lyon,  68;  refuses  to  fortify 
arsenal,  69;  in  command  of  ordnance,  70. 

Hall,  Mr.,  of  Randolph  County,  member  of  Convention  of  1861,  44. 

Hall,  Willard  P.,  provisional  Lieutenant  Governor  of  Missouri,  228. 

Halleck,  General  Henry  W.,  seizes  secession  rendezvous,  168;  in 
command  in  Missouri,  234-250;  protects  railroads,  239-240; 
puts  slaves  to  work  for  the  government,  239-241;  assesses  rich 
rebels,  242-243;  character  of,  234;  supports  convention,  235; 
enforces  requirement  of  oath  of  allegiance,  236,  352;  suppresses 
display  of  rebel  flag,  237;  orders  spies  shot,  238;  banishes  spies, 
238;  censors  newspapers,  238;  feeds  refugees,  242-244;  leaves 
Saint  Louis,  250,  272;  favors  Claybanks  and  Charcoals,  279. 

Hammer,  Colonel,  208. 

Hancock,  Daniel  J.,  deacon  of  Second  Baptist  Church,  123. 

Hancock,  General  Winfield  S.,  anecdote  of,  123. 

Hardee,  General  William  J.,  207. 

Harding,  General,  quartermaster  general,  sent  by  Governor  Jackson 
to  procure  munitions,  90. 


Index  377 

Harney,  General  William  Selby,  orders  troops  away  from  sub- 
treasury,  64;  sketch  of  life  of,  67;  refuses  chief  command  to 
Lyon,  68;  sustained  by  General  Scott  and  President  Buchanan, 
70;  appoints  Lyon  in  command  at  the  arsenal,  72;  called  to 
Washington,  73;  characterizes  the  militia  bill  as  a  secession 
measure,  103;  returns  to  Saint  Louis,  108;  tries  to  quiet  panic, 
108-109;  proclamation  of,  108,  115;  seizes  arms,  116-117;  his 
agreement  with  Price,  117;  removal  of,  118;  succeeded  by 
Lyon,  118,  198. 

Harper,  Captain,  extraordinary  abolitionist,  174-176. 

Henderson,  Honorable  John  B.,  chairman  of  committee,  reports 
against  prayer  of  Georgia  to  secede,  55. 

Henry,  Fort,  capture  of,  245. 

Home  Guards,  62,  72,  73,  200,  274;  "  Wide-Awakes  "  transformed 
into,  69;  plans  to  secure  arms  for,  69;  control  of,  in  hands  of 
Governor  Jackson,  71,  72;  attack  upon,  106;  rumor  of  in 
tended  attack  by,  108-114;  declared  enemies  to  the  Confederacy, 
233;  in  conflict  with  State  Guards,  240:  defend  Saint  Louis, 
327. 

"  Homes,"  for  soldiers,  292,  296,  300;  for  refugees,  293,  295,  261; 
for  orphans,  314;  number  of  people  cared  for  in,  300. 

Hospitals,  288-308;  great  demand  for,  291;  fifteen,  291;  New 
House  of  Refuge,  288;  City  Hospital,  288;  City  General,  290; 
cars  fitted  as,  by  General  Fremont,  296;  floating,  297;  flying, 
297;  Southerners  in,  302;  incidents  in,  301-308;  uplifting 
influence  of,  on  Saint  Louis,  308. 

How,  John,  member  of  Union  Safety  Committee,  69,  92,  93;  defeat 
of,  for  mayor,  71. 

Howell,  Mr.,  conditional  unionist  delegate  to  Convention  of  1861,  52. 

Hunter,  General  David,  succeeds  Fremont,  225-226,  234. 

Independence,  battle  of,  273. 

Ironton,  lead  seized  at,  by  Lyon,  118. 

Jackson,  Governor  Claiborn  F.,  44,  66,  71,  77,  79,  89,  94,  103,  105, 
119,  198;  sympathizes  with  secession,  23,  33;  favors  con 
vention,  41-42;  receives  Commissioner  Glenn,  54;  rumor  of 
his  intention  to  seize  arsenal,  77;  appoints  police  commissioners, 
72;  refuses  troops,  84,  88;  plants  batteries,  86;  in  corre 
spondence  with  Confederacy,  87-88;  summons  special  session  of 
legislature,  88;  confers  with  Frost  on  seizure  of  Saint  Louis, 
87-88;  buys  munitions,  90;  removes  war  material  from  Jefferson 
City,  104;  a  fugitive,  167,  227,  229;  in  conference  with  Lyon, 
198-202;  visits  Jefferson  Davis  at  Richmond,  229;  returns 
and  issues  proclamation,  231. 

Jackson,   James,   contraband,  tries  to  learn  to  read,  265-266. 

Jefferson  Barracks,  hospital  at,  291;  receives  and  treats  eleven 
thousand  soldiers,  292. 

Jefferson  City,  70,  77,  88,  201,  346,  347;  Convention  leaves,  43,  45, 
60;  panic  at,  102-104;  evacuated  by  Jackson,  201;  occupied 
by  Lyon,  202;  occupied  by  Brigadier  General  U.  S.  Grant, 


378  Index 

220;  Fremont  at,  221-223;  troops  at,  overestimated,  330; 
emancipation  celebrated  at,  348. 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  purchase  of  Louisiana  by,  6. 

"  John  Brown's  Body/'  sung  by  Indiana  troops,  245;  by  legislature, 
348;  over  Grant's  last  victory,  362. 

Johnson,  Reverend  G.  J.,  D.  D.,  161,  162. 

Johnson,  J.  B.,  M.D.,  of  Sanitary  Commission,  289. 

Kansas,  War,  11;  invasion  of,  24;  Lyon  in,  68;  troops  from, 
pursue  Price,  330. 

Kelly,  Captain,  at  Camp  Jackson,  90,  91. 

Kelton,  J.  C.,  Fremont's  assistant  adjutant-general,  208. 

Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle,  317,  338;  its  numbers  and  wide 
influence,  317;  checked  by  Rosecrans,  318;  expected  rising  of, 
331. 

Krekel,  Arnold,  president  of  Convention  of  1865,  344. 

Laclede,  Pierre  Ligueste,  early  trader,  6;    digs  first  cellar,  7,  8. 

Ladies'  Union  Aid  Society,  296;  formation  and  composition  of, 
293;  receives  donation  from  Western  Sanitary  Commission,  314. 

Lafayette,  Marquis  de,  entertained  in  Saint  Louis,  1825,  7. 

Lane,  General,  of  Kansas,  284. 

Lawyers,  distinguished,  before  the  war,  4. 

Lead,  seizure  of,  118;   exportation  of,  118-119. 

Lee,  General  R.  E.,  surrender  of,  rejoicing  over,  360,  361. 

Legislature,  votes  to  expel  free  negroes,  11;  creates  Convention, 
41,  42;  opposes  Convention,  56;  attempts  to  carry  Missouri 
into  the  Confederacy,  70,  71;  special  session  of,  88;  after  cap 
ture  of  Camp  Jackson,  103;  fears  attack,  104;  puts  Governor 
Jackson  in  absolute  control  of  Saint  Louis,  103;  passes  militia 
bill,  103;  fugitive,  227,  232;  passes  secession  ordinance,  231- 
232. 

Lexington,  Missouri,  battle  of,  219. 

Lieutenant-Governor,  the  unseated  and  fugitive  secession,  227; 
issues  proclamation  at  New  Madrid,  229;  the  provisional, 
Willard  P.  Hall,  228. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  4,  19,  32,  51,  62,  71,  82,  84,  94,  124,  149,  299, 
318,  359,  360;  his  debates  with  Douglas,  11;  '•  his  declaration 
of  1858,  11;  misrepresentation  of,  15;  election  of,  18,  51,  340, 
341;  speaks  in  Philadelphia,  37;  inauguration  of,  37,  38; 
nominated  for  president,  55,  338;  his  call  for  troops,  75;  his 
call  for  troops  denounced,  84;  anecdote  of,  162;  policy  of, 
toward  Fremont,  217;  recalls  Fremont's  proclamation,  218; 
letter  of,  to  Schofield,  282;  allays  strife,  285;  effects  of  his 
death,  362-365,  366;  portrait  of,  366. 

Lindell's  Grove,  site  of  Camp  Jackson,  89,  90,  165. 

Linton,  Doctor,  member  of  Convention  of  1861,  43;  in  Convention 
of  1865;  opposes  Oath  of  Loyalty,  355. 

Lovejoy,  Elijah  Parish,  death  of,  at  Alton,  80. 

Lyon,  Nathaniel,  sketch  of  the  life  of,  66-68;  commissioned  captain, 
67,  68;  claim  of,  to  supreme  command,  at  arsenal,  denied,  68; 
visits  the  "  Wide-Awakes,"  69;  plans  of,  for  arsenal,  69,  72; 


Index  379 

patrols  vicinity  of  arsenal,  73;  in  command  of  troops,  70;  in 
full  command,  72,  73;  plants  batteries  on  bluffs,  73;  empowered 
to  raise  and  arm  troops,  73;  fortifies  arsenal,  73;  ability 
in  defending  arsenal,  76;  dealings  of,  with  Governor  Yates  of 
Illinois,  76;  ruse  of,  to  defend  arsenal,  78;  enrolls  Missouri 
troops,  81,  83;  refuses  to  remove  troops,  84,  85;  occupies 
bluffs,  88;  declares  governor  in  correspondence  with  Con 
federacy,  87;  visits  Camp  Jackson  in  disguise,  92;  meets  with 
Committee  of  Safety,  92-93;  captures  Camp  Jackson,  95; 
removes  munitions  from  Camp  Jackson  to  the  Arsenal,  104; 
made  Brigadier-General,  118;  seizes  "  J.  C.  Swan  "  and  lead, 
118;  success  of,  119;  confers  with  Price  and  Jackson,  198-201; 
campaign  of,  201;  at  Boonville,  202-203;  occupies  Springfield, 
203,  207;  occupies  Jefferson  City,  202;  pleads  for  troops,  207, 
208;  moves  against  Price  and  McCulloch,  209-210;  his  letter  to 
Fremont,  210;  praised  by  Snead,  211;  killed  in  battle  of  Wilson's 
Creek,  211;  his  army  retreats  to  Rolla,  211;  surprised  Price 
and  McCulloch  at  Wilson's  Creek,  211;  body  borne  through 
Saint  Louis,  212. 

McClellan,  General  George  B.,  298;   nominated  for  president,  338. 

McCulloch,  General  Ben,  203,  207,  209;  helps  win  battle  of  Wilson's 
Creek,  211;  with  Price  occupies  Springfield,  211;  defeated 
at  Pea  Ridge,  244. 

McDowell,  Dr.,  Medical  College  of,  made  a  military  prison,  188-189. 

McKinstry,  Major  J.,  suppresses  disloyal  papers,  214;  reprimands 
editor  of  Christian  Advocate,  215;  requires  special  permits 
to  pass  lines,  215. 

McNeil,  Colonel,  commandant  of  Saint  Louis,  206. 

McPherson,  William  M.,  122,  123. 

Marmaduke,  marches  towards  Missouri,  323. 

Marshall,  John,  his  interpretation  of  the  Constitution,  51. 

Marshall,  Honorable  Thomas,  lectures  of,  on  Henry  Clay,  and 
the  Revolution,  25,  26;  downfall  of,  27. 

Martial  law,  proclaimed  in  Saint  Louis  and  Saint  Louis  County, 
213;  in  the  State,  217;  passes  required  to  leave  the  city,  215; 
deprecated  by  the  loyal  and  disloyal,  216-217. 

Massachusetts,  26,  127,  295,  299. 

Meetings  for  prayer,  137-138. 

Mercantile  Library  Hall,  116,  117,  183;  address  in,  by  Honorable 
J.  R.  Giddings,  27;  Convention  of  1861,  meets  in,  44,  45;  Con 
vention  of  1865  meets  in,  343. 

Militia,  of  Missouri,  to  be  called  out  by  governor,  63;  called  to  drill, 
May  2,  1861,  88;  bill  for  equipping,  103;  regiment  of,  mutinies, 
284. 

Minute  Men,  Democratic  political  club,  20;  drilled  in  military  tactics, 
21;  armed,  22;  under  control  of  Governor  Jackson,  71,  72; 
refuse  to  lay  down  arms,  81;  join  General  Frost,  89. 

Mississippi  Valley  Sanitary  Fair,  of  1864,  309-314;    see  "  Fair." 

Missouri  Historical  Society,  6. 

Missouri  Republican,   prints  sermon  on   "  Duty  of  Obedience   to 


380  Index 

Established  Government,"  133;  its  Union  and  Secession 
editors,  143-144. 

Mitchell,  Captain,  of  "  City  of  Alton,"  79. 

Mulligan,  surrender  of,  at  Lexington,  219,  220. 

Napoleon,  sells  Louisiana,  6. 

Negroes  in  Saint  Louis,  slaves,  1,  9;  bill  to  exclude  free,  11-14; 
a  pastor  of,  12-13;  at  the  Fair,  313;  schools  for,  333-337;  cele 
brate  passing  of  Emancipation  Ordinance,  347;  own  taxable 
property,  333. 

Nelson,  Reverend  Henry  A.,  4;    Presbyterian  Unionist,  121. 

Neosho,  guerrillas  near,  323. 

New  House  of  Refuge  Hospital,  288. 

New  Orleans,  slave  market,  172,  177,  182. 

Newspapers,    see  "  Press." 

Noble,  Thomas  S.,  sketch  of  life  of,  155-157;  paints  "  The  Slave 
Mart,"  156;  paints  "John  Brown  going  to  Execution,"  157. 

Nurses,  qualifications  of,  for  Saint  Louis  hospitals,  294;  efficiency 
of,  305. 

Oath,  to  sustain  the  constitution  of  United  States  and  Missouri,  by 
Convention  of  1861,  53;  by  members  of  Camp  Jackson,  89; 
of  fealty  to  Missouri  asserted  supreme,  103;  of  allegiance,  taken 
by  prisoners,  102,  196;  in  prayer  meeting,  137-138;  demanded 
by  Halleck,  235-236;  keeps  many  from  voting,  341;  "of 
Loyalty,"  351;  severity  of,  354-356;  distress  resulting  from, 
357-359;  "  Test  Oath,"  353;  called  "  Draconian,"  355;  set 
aside  by  Supreme  Court,  359. 

Oliver,  Mordecai,  Secretary  of  State  of  Missouri,  228. 

Order  of  American  Knights,  317,  331. 

Order  of  the  Star,  317;  see  "  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle." 

Ordinance  of  Emancipation,  345-349. 

Orr,  Honorable  Sample,  speech  in  Convention  of  1861,  54. 

Paducah,  occupied  by  Grant,  223;    Sanitary  Commission  at,  296. 

Panic,  in  Saint  Louis  after  capture  of  Camp  Jackson,  101-102;  in 
Jefferson  City,  103-104;  of  May  12,  107-115;  at  Boonville,  322. 

Partridge,  George,  Esquire,  of  Sanitary  Commission,  289. 

Pierce,  President  Franklin,  68. 

Pike,  General  Albert,  244. 

Pillow,  General  Gideon  J.,  207,  208,  229,  230. 

Pilot  Knob,  Confederate  troops  near,  326;    General  Ewing  at,  327. 

Planters'  Hotel,  163,  164;   conference  at,  199-202. 

Plot  against  the  Union,  315-332;  clues  of,  followed  up,  316;  object 
and  character  of,  317;  names  of  organization  in,  317;  places 
and  leaders  in,  317;  incited  by  press,  319;  rumors  of,  get 
abroad,  320;  movements  by  guerrillas,  apart  of,  321-325;  helped 
by  bushwhackers,  324-326;  General  Price  in,  326-331;  failure 
of,  331. 

Police  of  Saint  Louis,  control  of,  in  hands  of  Governor  Jackson,  71, 
72;  commissioners  of,  demand  removal  of  troops,  84;  checks 
rioting,  102. 

Pope,  Major  General  John,  212,  368. 


Index  381 

Post,  Reverend  Truman  M.,  4,  121,  301. 

Praying  for  the  President,  124-126. 

Preachers,  distinguished,  before  the  war,  4. 

Preaching,  against  disunion,  127-134,  136,  139-140,  149,  166; 
preaching  "  politics,"  139;  to  soldiers,  301;  of  good  cheer. 
338-340. 

Presbyterians,  minister  of,  preaches  on  "  The  Ultimatum  of  the 
South,"  121;  General  Convention  of,  in  Saint  Louis,  366;  debate 
in  Convention  over  secession  of  Synod,  367-368. 

Press,  the,  attitude  and  influence  of,  142-145;  censored  by  Halleck, 
238;  The  Missouri  Republican,  12,  116,  133,  143-144,  pub 
lishes  sermon  on  "  Obedience  to  Government,"  132;  Harper's 
Weekly,  15;  The  Missouri  Democrat,  143,  prints  Te  Deum 
extra,  247;  Evening  News  suppressed  for  criticizing  Fremont, 
219-220;  War  Bulletin  and  Missourian  suppressed,  214; 
Christian  Advocate  threatened  with  suppression,  215;  Metro 
politan  Record,  circulation  of,  prohibited  in  Missouri,  319. 

Price,  Sterling,  president  of  convention  of  1861,  53,  61;  a  Confederate 
general,  61,  117,  191,  234;  campaigns  of,  201-203,  226,  326-332; 
driven  from  Missouri,  203,  240,  244,  330;  invades  Missouri, 
207,  209,  239-240,  327;  rumor  of  intended  invasion  of,  322-323; 
in  conference  with  Lyon,  198-201;  victorious  at  Wilson's 
Creek,  211;  occupies  Springfield,  211;  defeated  at  Pea  Ridge, 
244;  recognizes  guerrilla  Anderson,  325;  checked  at  Fort 
Davidson,  328;  fails  to  attack  Saint  Louis  and  Jefferson  City, 
329-330;  destroys  much  property,  331-332;  failure  of  his  last 
campaign,  331-332. 

Prisoners,  from  Camp  Jackson,  97-99,  refuse  food  at  Arsenal,  99; 
paroled,  102;  Confederate,  191-196;  anecdotes  concerning, 
189-197;  a  Baptist  preacher  a  prisoner,  191-194;  soldiers  get 
Thanksgiving  dinner  meant  for,  195;  secession  minister  a 
prisoner,  196;  at  Boonville,  202. 

Prisons,  military,  188-197;  character  of,  189;  Dr.  McDowell's 
Medical  College  used  as,  188;  slave  pen  used  as,  193. 

Pritchard,  Colonel,  89. 

Proclamations,  of  General  Harney,  108,  110,  115;  Emancipation, 
of  Lincoln,  149;  of  General  Fremont,  217;  of  secession,  Lieu 
tenant  Governor,  229;  of  General  Thompson,  230;  of  Governor 
Jackson,  231;  of  General  Price,  233;  of  General  Halleck,  236, 
239;  assessing  rich  rebels,  242,  freeing  slaves,  241;  of  Governor 
Gamble,  228-229;  of  General  Schofield,  284;  of  Emancipation 
by  Governor  Fletcher,  348;  of  the  Revised  Constitution,  357; 
declaring  end  of  the  war,  368. 

Protestants  admitted  to  Spanish  Saint  Louis  only  by  pass,  9. 

Provisional  Government  of  Missouri,  228. 

Pulpit,  120-142;  prudentially  silent,  120-121;  one  voice  for  seces 
sion,  121,  135;  supported  by  loyal  laymen,  122-126;  soldiers  in 
the  congregation,  123-124. 

Quaker  conscience,  303. 

Quantrel,  273,  322;  invades  Kansas,  284. 


382  Index 

Quinby,  Major  General,  249-250. 

Quincy,  fugitives  from  panic  flee  to,  111. 

Ramsay,  Charles  G.,  editor  Evening    News,  imprisoned,  219-220. 

Rawlings,  United  States  Marshal,  seizes  munitions  of  war,  116. 

"  R.  C.  Wood,"  floating  hospital,  297. 

Refugees,  251-267;  follow  army  of  Fremont,  226;  fed  by  private 
charity  and  army  rations,  242,  and  by  enforced  assessments, 
243-244;  anecdotes  of,  253-267;  classes  of,  252-259;  ignorance 
of,  255-260;  numbers  of,  261;  freedmen,  262-267;  homes  for, 
261,  293,  295;  white,  300;  from  Price's  invasion,  332. 

Republicans,  20;  party  of,  success  of,  the  doom  of  slavery,  15; 
appealed  to  by  Carl  Schurz,  17;  success  of,  in  1860,  18. 

Rioting,  after  the  capture  of  Camp  Jackson,  101-102,  106-107;  in 
attack  on  church,  131-132;  in  attack  on  minister,  135;  from 
attack  on  German  troops,  204-205. 

Robinson,  Lieutenant,  64. 

Rolla,  Missouri,  Lyon's  army  falls  back  to,  211;  guerrillas  near,  322; 
Ewing  retreats  to,  329;  wounded  hero  at,  307  „ 

Rosecrans,  General  W.  S.,  President  of  Mississippi  Valley  Sanitary 
Fair,  309,  316;  succeeds  Schofield,  309;  in  command  of  De 
partment  of  Missouri,  315;  ferrets  out  disloyal  plot,  316-323; 
enlists  negro  troops,  319;  sends  away  troops,  320;  prohibits 
circulation  of  Metropolitan  Record,  checks  319;  accused  of 
violation  of  orders,  321;  gets  help  from  General  Smith,  327. 

Sac  and  Fox  Indians,  sell  land,  7. 

Saint-Ange,  Captain  Louis,  acting  French  governor,  1765,  7. 

Saint  Louis,  character  of  people  of,  in  1860,  1,  3,  4;  population 
in  1860,  1,  in  1822,  8;  buildings  in,  2;  dwellings  in,  2,  3; 
early  history  of,  6-10;  site  of,  on  terraces,  2,  7;  capital  of  Upper 
Louisiana,  6;  trading  post  in  1764,  6;  its  defenses  in  1764,  7; 
incorporated  as  a  town,  7;  chartered  as  a  city,  8;  divided  in 
sentiment,  40. 

Schofield,  General  John  McAllister,  in  command  in  Missouri,  272-275, 
282-286,  309,  315;  commands  militia  against  guerrillas,  273; 
commands  Army  of  the  Frontier,  282;  opposed  by  Charcoals, 
283;  threatens  newspapers,  284;  sustained  by  Lincoln,  285; 
his  view  of  the  radicals,  286;  opposed  by  Claybanks,  287;  drills 
negro  troops,  313. 

Schools,  for  negroes,  333-337;  no  public,  for  negroes  in  1864,  333; 
legislature  provides,  336;  private,  for  negroes,  poor  quality 
of,  333-335;  examination  of  teachers  for,  334;  school  board  in 
favor  of,  for  negroes,  336. 

Schurz,  Carl,  address  of,  in  Saint  Louis,  "  The  Doom  of  Slavery," 
16-18,  369. 

Scott,  General  Winfield,  denies  supreme  command  to  Lyon,  68,  70. 

Schuyler,  Episcopalian  clergyman,  Unionist,  121. 

Search  for  arms,  May  17,  116-117. 

Secession,  urged  by  cotton  states,  23,  24,  33,  49,  57;  of  South 
Carolina,  24,  32,  33;  of  Gulf  states,  32,  33,  36;  of  Georgia, 
53,  55;  reasons  against,  35,  36,  48-60;  process  of,  40;  Mis- 


Index  383 

souri  saved  from,  40-62;  results  of  Missouri's  rejection  of,  62; 
efforts  for,  71,  81,  82,  147,  315,  332;  preaching  against,  127-134; 
attitude  of  church  and  press  toward,  142-145;  discussion  of, 
146-148;  divisions  over,  in  families,  neighborhoods  and  churches, 
146-158;  division  over  in  Chamber  of  Commerce,  153-154; 
Ordinance  of,  passed  by  defunct  legislature,  231-232. 

Secessionists,  active,  preceding  Lincoln's  inauguration,  38;  in 
Missouri,  hopeful,  42. 

Seward,  William  H.,  11. 

Sheeley,  Mr.,  of  Independence,  conditional  unionist,  51. 

Shelby,  General,  invades  Missouri,  326;    opposes  Ewing,  328. 

Sherman,  General  W.  T.,  295;  at  Camp  Jackson,  99-100;  receives 
aid  from  Western  Sanitary  Commission,  298;  calls  for  soldiers, 
320;  troops  meant  for,  sent  to  Missouri,  327;  in  Georgia,  338, 
340. 

Simmons,  Colonel,  92. 

Simmonds,  Medical  Director,  turns  over  the  "  Ben  Franklin," 
to  Sanitary  Commission,  297. 

Sisters  of  Charity,  in  hospital,  288,  302. 

Slave  Mart,  the,  painting,   156-157. 

Slave  pens,  Lynch's  and  Children's,  182-187. 

Slavery,  its  extinction  hoped  for,  9,  feared,  15;  discussion  of,  11; 
protected  by  law  in  Saint  Louis,  9;  speech  of  Carl  Shurz  on, 
16;  speech  of  Giddings  on,  27;  how  to  preserve,  48;  Fugitive 
Slave  Law,  51,  52,  181;  condition  of  the  slaves,  170-181; 
abolition  of,  demanded,  277,  345-348;  abolition  of,  by  Conven 
tion  of  1865,  344-345. 

Slaves,  small  number  of,  in  Saint  Louis,  1,  9;  last  auction  of,  28-31; 
condition  of,  170-181;  emancipation  of,  by  Lincoln,  149,  by 
owners,  170-176,  by  Fremont,  217,  by  Halleck,  241;  attitude 
of,  towards  their  masters  and  the  war,  178-181. 

Smarius,  Father,  4. 

Smith,  General  A.  J.,  defends  Saint  Louis,  326-327;  advances  to 
Pilot  Knob,  327;  retires  behind  the  Meramec,  328. 

Smith,  Mr.,  delegate  from  Saint  Louis  to  Convention  of  1861,  54. 

Snead,  Thomas  L.,  aide  to  Governor  Jackson,  199;  praises  Lyon, 
211;  slaves  of,  freed  by  Fremont,  217. 

Soldiers'  Home,  300;  see  "  Homes." 

Songs,  John  Brown's  Body,  245;  Star  Spangled  Banner,  247; 
Yankee  Doodle,  247;  Rally  Round  the  Flag,  362;  America, 
129,  362. 

Sons  of  Liberty,  The,  317;    see  "  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle." 

Spies,  in  Saint  Louis,  237,  238. 

Springfield,  Illinois,  shipment  of  arms  to,  76-81;  Lincoln  at,  162; 
Lincoln's  burial  at,  365. 

Springfield,  Missouri,  occupied  by  Lyon's  troops,  202;  occupied 
by  Lyon,  203,  207,  209;  by  Price  and  McCulloch,  211. 

State  Guards,  229,  233;    in  conflict  with  Home  Guards,  240. 

State  Rights  Doctrine,  absurdity  of,  shown,  84;  humored  by  Lin 
coln,  218. 


384  Index 

Statesmen,  distinguished,  before  the  war,  4. 

Steamboat,  first  at  Saint  Louis,  8;  four  thousand  of,  in  1860,  9; 
City  of  Alton,  77-80;  J.  C.  Swan,  118;  City  of  Louisiana,  297; 
R.  C.  Wood,  297. 

Stephens,  Alexander  H.,   vice-president  of  Confederacy,   59,    197. 

Stevenson,  Colonel,  213. 

Stewart,  R.  M.,  Governor  of  Missouri,  33;  pockets  bill  expelling  free 
negroes,  14;  received  coldly  commissioner  from  Alabama,  23. 

Stoddard,  Major,  agent  of  France  and  United  States,  6. 

Stokes,  Captain  James  H.,  conveys  arms  from  arsenal,  77-81. 

Sturgeon,  Isaac  H.,  assistant  treasurer,  calls  for  troops,  63-65. 

Sumner,  General  Edwin  V.,  124. 

Tate,  Samuel,  of  South  Carolina,  views  of,  on  importance  of  Mis 
souri  to  Confederacy,  118,  119. 

Taylor,  Daniel  G.,  mayor  of  Saint  Louis,  71. 

Thanksgiving  dinner  to  unintended  diners,  195. 

Thompson,  Brigadier-General,  of  Missouri  State  Guards,  229;  issues 
proclamation,  230. 

Union  Chamber  of  Commerce,  formed,  154. 

Unionists,  kinds  of,  35,  49-53;  unconditional,  35,  36,  51;  conditional, 
51,  52,  57;  Calhoun  unionists,  50,  51;  condition  of,  51,  52,  53; 
not  panic  stricken,  115;  numbers  of,  in  1865,  362;  their  success 
in  Convention  of  1861,  61;  parade  of  on  Washington's  birthday, 
248-249. 

United  States  Sanitary  Commission,  297. 

Vallandigham,  Clement  L.,  supreme  commander  of  secret  order, 
317,  331. 

Vanbuskirk,  Mr.,  of  Holt  County,  51. 

Van  Dorn,  General  Earl,  defeated  at  Pea  Ridge,  244. 

Vicksburg,  supplies  received  at,  298. 

Volunteer  troops,  81,  83;  numbers  of,  increased,  85,  244;  preaching 
to,  301;  come  to  defense  of  Saint  Louis,  327. 

Webster,  Soldiers'  Orphans'  Home  at,  314. 

Welsh,  "  Father,"  Baptist  minister,  forced  to  solicit  pass,  216. 

Western  Sanitary  Commission,  254,  288-308;  helps  refugees,  261; 
authorized  to  fit  up  hospitals,  288-289;  composition  of,  289; 
opens,  City  General  Hospital,  290,  home  for  soldiers,  292,  home 
for  refugees,  293;  sustained  by  generals  and  Secretary  of  War, 
295;  donations  to,  295-296,  299,  314;  visits  Cairo  and  Paducah, 
296;  cooperates  with  United  States  Sanitary  Commission, 
297-298;  sends  aid  to  Generals  McClellan  and  Sherman,  and 
to  prisoners  at  Anderson ville,  298;  aids  freedmen  on  the  lower 
Mississippi,  298;  great  demands  on,  309;  holds  Fair,  309; 
establishes  Orphans'  Home,  314. 

Wide- Awakes,  The,  a  Republican  political  club,  19,  20;    arms  for, 
sent  as  plaster  casts,  21-22;    become  Home  Guards,  69,  71,  72; 
armed,  81;  see  also  "  Home  Guards." 
Wilson's  Creek,  battle  of,  160,  212,  213,  288;    General  Lyon  killed 

at,  211. 
Witzig,  Julius  J.,  member  of  Committee  of  Safety,  92. 


Index  385 

Wood,  R.  C.,  Assistant  Surgeon-General,  commands  flying  hospital, 

297. 

Yancey,  William  L.,  of  Alabama,  59;    a  Calhoun  Unionist,  51. 
Yankees,  99;    denounced,  161-162. 
Yates,  Governor  Richard,  of  Illinois,  makes  requisition  for  arms  in 

arsenal,  76;    summons  Stokes  to  secure  the  arms,  77. 
Yeatman,   James  E.,   President  of  Western  Sanitary  Commission, 

254,  289,  290;    his  great  work,  288-299;    description  of,  289; 

agent  for  Miss  Dorothea  L.  Dix,  294;    takes  aid  to  Vicksburg, 

298  299 
Zagonyii  221;   heroism  of  a  soldier  of,  307-308. 


r    RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 
TO^g     902  Main  Library 
LOAN  PERIOD   I  " 
HOME  USE 

4" 


STAMPED  BU.OW 


ECEIVED 

JUN     3 


FORMNO.DD6,60m,U83          BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


YC  51173 


This  book  has  been 
borrowed  from  another 
1'brary  for  your  use. 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


8000771237 


